Freedom in possession
by loredana
Summary: What of Cat Butler? What of Rhett and Scarlett's child? What if she fell in love with the wrong man and rejected the right one? Will she repeat her mother's mistake or will she know better? Crossover with North&South [the English one]
1. Chapter 1: Faces and masks

BEFORE READING:

So, I have been writing this story for quite sometime now and been posting it around ...mostly on North and South related sites and I had to wonder if it would be all right to post it on a GWTW board, but finally I thought why not .. Now, for those who have not seen North and South (the English one from 2004), I don't think it's necessary for you to understand the story and I always try in my stories to explain things as well I can. Hope you like it and feed-back is most welcomed!

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Chapter I – Faces and masks

To try to describe a strange being like Catherine Butler is truly an adventure. To be able to understand her is almost impossible, for her soul is filled with songs of loneliness and thoughts of quiet that don't torment nor scare her but that she encourages with infinite pleasure. It is safe to say that she was born Katie Colum O'Hara and slowly became Katie Colum Butler at her fathers insistence and upgraded to Catherine Butler at her own obstinate claims at the age of 7. "I am not a Katie Colum", she cried out … "I'm Catherine the Great of Rome"…. "Of course you are", her mother replied amused but did not fight the change … she knew it to be a useless struggle and she enjoyed the determination of her child's character …. The name of the town changed over the years, as they moved from country to country making use of their self imposed situation as "inhabitants of the world" … but her title stuck … somehow it fit … her bravado was always something to marvel at.

They moved right after her mother died, from Barcelona to New York … the thought of being in the same place where they had lost a person of such importance to them was unthinkable to her and her father …"Losing your half must be the hardest thing in the world … You are condemned to live with half of your body for the rest of your life", Catherine thought when she looked at her father at the funeral. His once boyish grin and ironic look had transformed into a bitter sadness that day and they were never seen again. Of course he still kept his humor and joy of life that Catherine knew she still brought to him, but it was never the same.

Still, New York was good to them for the next 5 years and for the first time Catherine had no woods to run to because they lived right in the middle of the city. She was introduced into society.

Her father thought she would hate it. He knew his daughter to be a free spirit and he was afraid that the rules any society lives by would result in a strong opposition on his daughter's part. But he was frightened by the thought of Cat spending all her life alone … People, he thought, are social creatures … they have to be surrounded by others such as them to live a truly complete life …

His fears soon proved to be wrong. Although, Catherine refused to conform to all of the social rules imposed to young ladies of certain breeding and means, as long as she could, from time to time escape them or even worse, flaunt her disrespect at them, she found her social functions quite entertaining and fascinating, even though at times they caused her infinite amusement. She soon became the toast of New York society and her father was surprised to find that she reminded him of a certain young lady he had met a long time ago at Twelve Oaks surrounded by her southern beaus. "She is your daughter, Scarlett O'Hara. Although, I do believe she has a little more common sense them you", he would say often with a sad smile that reminded him of times that would never come back again.

The ones that were truly thankful for her father's decision, however, were, of course, the men. She was so different from any other woman they had ever met that they couldn't help feeling attracted to her, almost inexplicably. She never seemed to search for the attention of anyone and you could always sense an acute need for independence and self contentment that men, given their rather predatory nature, could not resist. Even her physical appearance made her different. Her green, cat like eyes, her black hair and seductive lips were not uncommon, and although that did not take from their beauty it was her skin that made everyone take notice. It was quite common for young, well-brought up ladies to have perfect, white skin that they protected almost as fiercely as their virginity. Catherine, on the other hand, was born with honey like skin that had preserved its self intact and she could not help that, not even if she had wished it. In concerns to her virginity, she was in no danger of losing it either because, although she did like the attentions of the men that surrounded her (she could not deny her vanity was satisfied and they were quite entertaining), she did not find herself interested in anyone in particular for the longest time. Until there was him ….

William Redcliff … from one of the most respected families in New York, experimented horseman and graduate of West Point… amateur philosopher and singer and sometimes poet … handsome, blond hair, brown eyes and conveniently honey-like skin … He was, by all accounts, the perfect American gentleman.

Catherine found herself admiring his large, perfect smile one night while they were having dinner at the Brown's. It was the first time she had seen him and the first time she felt her knees go soft. She knew not what attracted her to him but she suspected it was the pleasure he took in the life he was living that she, at times, felt an acute urge to escape from. She thought that maybe if he would love her, she would finally feel she had a person to call her own and to which she could give herself to. Being completely free and alone was fine with Catherine but for the first time, that night, she acknowledged the fact that she needed someone to look at her the way her father used to look at her mother.

During the night they were introduced. He had a pleasant voice, especially when he was talking about West Point and his views on the perfect life: "Sunny days filled with smiles and the complete lack of any kind of opposition … that is what I call the perfect life. Don't you agree, Miss Butler?", he said cheerfully.

"I believe the perfect life comes from the people you decide to share it with. If they are the right ones neither storms, tears nor the strongest kind of opposition could ever destroy the serenity of one's life, Mr. Redcliff". Catherine smiled when seeing a strange kind of admiration rise in William Redcliff's eyes. He added quickly:

"I will write you a poem tonight. You deserve to be the muse of the greatest poets that ever lived but unfortunately you will have to content yourself with me".

He kept to his word and many poems were written in the following weeks. Although Catherine would have preferred a long walk and rational discussions, she soon discovered that when it came to William Redcliff, she took whatever was offered.

She heard him mention once that he loved lilies, so lilies were immediately planted in the Butler garden. He once said that he did not like lavender. She threw the bottle of perfume instantly. These were small change and in regards to things that Catherine did not have a strong attachment to … in those respects they never had the slightest disagreement, perhaps because they never talked about important things for any extended periods of time … but William did begin to cause some subtle changes in her, and in a obstinate creature as Catherine Butler the slightest change is the result of a much bigger issue.

Her best friend, Mary Andrews (an other independent soul that vowed never to marry anyone that disagreed with Darwin) noticed the difference immediately:

"You are in love with William Redcliff. Do not deny it, Cat", she added when Catherine tried to cut in, "it's quite useless. You can not hide it."

"Nonsense"

"It was bound to happen eventually and you could have done much worse, I suppose", Mary added with serene resignation.

"Well, I'm truly glad that I have your approval, Mary. I don't know what I would have done otherwise", Catherine replied winking. She knew she had nothing to worry on Mary's part. She liked William very much even though she did not like to admit it.

But the months went by and William did not give any indication that he was interested in making their acquaintance more profound then just a strong friendship. She did not understand him.

She still didn't understand him now. Now that she was on a boat going to England. She did not understand his reaction when she told him she was leaving New York to join her father on his ventures overseas, a reaction that seemed truly of disappointment, or his lack of solution to their sudden separation. She was sure that if William had proposed marriage, her father would not have opposed it, because, although he had never said anything about William, he knew that he was what she desired.

But William remained silent.

There was, however reason for joy, because before joining her father, she was to stop in London to visit Ashley Wilkes and his family, which had settled there over ten years ago, ever since Beau had established a lumber business there. She was going to see Beau and Billy, which she missed terribly. They were, after all, the closest thing she had ever had to brothers.

But not even that could change her sense of loss at thinking that she might never see William again. That she had lost her only chance to share her life with someone else. The thought of being the wife of an other or even to be loved by an other man repulsed her completely. She only wanted William to have those feelings for her. That confession she made to herself made her cry out in desperation… "William, come for me!" and she buried he face down in her pillow trying to hide her tears …

So there she was … Catherine Butler … on a boat that would take her over an ocean and ultimately to a small town of Milton, she had never heard of, and ever so more apart from the first man to ever write her poetry.

"Make sure to visit Edith and especially Sheldo … you know how much he looks up to you … oh, and my aunt Shaw". Margaret stopped at seeing her son cringe at the thought of spending an afternoon with a woman who thought cotton was for peasants. She smiled: "I know, I know … she can be quite tiresome, but if you do not go I will never hear the end of it. If I was feeling better I would have come with you and speared you the aggravation but this cold is going to keep me in for quite some time, I'm afraid".

James Thornton was sitting at his desk trying to finish some last minute issues that had to be resolved before going to London. "Anything for you mother", he said smiling before being absorbed once again by his business.

He did not want to go on a trip when there was so much that required his immediate attention at the mill but he could no do otherwise. Fanny's daughter was getting married and as head of the family he had to be there.

"You must not forget to talk to the lawyer to draw the papers for the new machine", his grandmother stepped in with her well known practicality, "I've heard Slikson saying that his is already on the way".

"What Slikson says and what the reality is are two different things. Especially since he lost a great deal of money on useless speculations", Thornton said leaving his chair quite irritated.

"Well,", his mother interrupted "business is important of course", she continued arrangeing her son's collar, "but we must remember this is a wedding and you are allowed to have fun", she said looking at her mother-in-law, "and who knows maybe even …"

A look of reproch from her son silenced Margaret. "I am 32 years old. I think I am quite capable to give the bride away and take care of my business", he pauses for a minute and then he added: "and even spend an hour in Aunt Shaw's company without needing guidelines or protection". James loved his mother and grandmother but sometimes they still treated him as if he was twelve years old.

"So do not worry! Both of you!", he concluded smiling.

Margaret loved that smile. It reminded her of the man she still loved so much and had lost too early. In fact, everything about her son reminded her of John. His face, his voice, his decided character. They were all there present so she would never forget what she once had. She was grateful for that.

"All right, Jamie. Have a safe trip and I am done nagging. I promise", she says caressing his face.

Hannah continues to saw. It was not in her nature to show affection, although she felt it. As strong as she had once felt it for his father. After her son had died, James was the only reason she was still living. She knew she could not die until she made sure he would be a true and worthy descendent of John Thornton.

James understood the love that his family had for him and with it, the immense burden of the hopes both those women had placed upon his shoulders … the hard task of replacing a great man that they had both loved so much. Even before he knew what his own wishes were, he was sure that he had to do anything in his power to fulfill theirs. Luckily for him, controlling the mill was not a task that his own character felt against … All to the contrary, ever since he was old enough, he knew that he wanted to take up his father's business.

The train to London crossed many interesting landscapes. He did not see any of them. He was too absorbed in his problems even to take notice. He must talk to Bill Wilkens about the machine. They would probably have to travel to Liverpool together. It had costed a lot of money, but investing in modernizing his mill always seemed good business sense to James Thornton. Luckily, the Wilkens's would come to the wedding seen that they were close friends of the Watson family.

A two week prewedding affair seemed excessive to James but then again, everything Aunt Fanny did was excessive.

He would not stay there for the entire period. After all, he did have important things to do. He could not be expected to spend 2 weeks playing pool and talking about British politics. He really did not understand how men in the South could spend their entire lives doing next to nothing. Of course, his mother would most likely disagree with him.

Although, Margaret Hale was now completely Margaret Thornton, the memory of the south and it's serene and green life still lingered in her mind. He knew that and understood her and he even had to admit that southern ladies did hold a certain claim on him. With their milky skin, idealistic eyes and perfect manners they would most deffinatly make for exemplar wives, although until the present he had not found any one in particular to determine him to take the necessary step.

As he finally got off the train in London, a young lady smiled at him and then quickly disappeared under the safety of her umbrella. She was dressed with a beautiful, summer, white muslin traveling dress with her blond hair pulled back in a complicated fashion.

It was not uncommon for him to experience such events. He felt amused and acknowledged the fact that the woman was, by all criteria, quite beautiful.

"I wondered what she would think if she knew I was a cotton manufacturer from Milton?"

"You are even more beautiful then I remember. Of course you were just a lass when I saw you last. You have grown in quite the young lady". Harriet Wilkines was sitting on the chair in the salon looking straight at Catherine as she sipped her tea and tried to eliminate the traveling air that surrounded her ever since she got off the boat.

"If only your poor mother would be here to see you. She would take such pride in it".

The mention of her mother brought on some very sad feelings but also amusement. Harriet was the only person Catherine ever heard call her mother "poor". It was obvious she did not know Scarlett O'Hara Butler well. The only thing she had ever been poor in was common sense, as her father would say.

It was also obvious that Harriet had not been able to rid herself completely of her Irish connection. "God knows how many looks and words she has had to putt up with!", Catherine thought. She knew exactly how the English felt about the Irish, and it was not a good feelings altogether.

"You do look so much like your mother", Ashley interrupted, "the same good disposition and lively eyes". Ashley still appreciated those features of character that were so foreign in his own person.

"But look at us", Harriet jumped as if she had remembered something, "keeping you in the salon when you must be exhausted after your long journey. I will take you to the room. I hope you like it. You'll have a wonderful view."

"Oh, but I don't feel tired at all. On the contrary, I wish to stay with you longer so you can tell me about your life here seeing as we'll be sharing the same country", Catherine joked, "honestly … and I want to see Billy and Beau … I did miss them so!"

But Harriet was so determined to send Catherine to rest that she could not be convinced otherwise even if her husband would have liked more time with their guest. "Besides, Billy is gone on business. He'll be back in two days. And Beau is at the office. You'll see him tonight and catch up! But until then, it's time to rest."

The room was indeed very beautiful, but honestly, what did Harriet think she had done on the boat? Work at the coal engines? There were very few things you could do on a boat, other the rest. Besides, she did not want to be left alone with her thoughts, for there was no escaping William Redcliff.

She took a long bath and she thought of him. Quite shameful thoughts that made her blush.

She wrote her father a letter announcing she had arrived in London… and she thought of him. The memory of their discussions seemed so much more intense now, the occasionally touches, his breath accidentally touching her face … it all took an erotic connotation in Catherine's mind until she came to the conclusion that she would eventually find her way back to him. It couldn't be otherwise. And she would find a way to make him as much in love with her as she was with him.

After three hours of day dreaming that did her more harm than good, it was finally time to go to dinner. Beau had come from work and she was grateful to have something else to occupy her mind. Her "elected brother", as she liked to call him, was as happy and active as she remembered and she was glad to see that he was doing something important that gave him a lot of pride:

"Oh, yes, the business is going very well. And you can not belive the sense of accomplishment a finished building has on you. To know that you participated in something that will last long after you are gone", he went on and on, with an excitement that Catherine fully enjoyed and participated in. "But, Cat .. Enough of business. How rude of me! To go on about wood and bricks when I have such a goddess by my side. You are even more beautiful! I did not think it was possible".

"Hush, Beau, stop it! You are going to make me blush and you know how much I hate that!", Catherine stopped him with infinite tenderness …

"I'm truly sorry but I can not avoid it … I shall have to protect you like a hawk for as long as you are here! Oh, and at the wedding …"

"What wedding?"

"Oh, yes … you shall have to go to the wedding", Harriet suddenly mentioned

"What wedding?" Catherine asked again with increasing curiosity.

"The Watson one. Fanny Watson .. remember I wrote you about her … a friend of mine?", Harriet explained, "her eldest daughter, Eleanor is getting married … to a German count apparently" …

"Oh …" Catherine seemed to remember Harriet mentioning something about that friend of hers …

"It will be quite the event, Cat. Quite a long affair, lasting two weeks and you'll get to enjoy the country side and get to know English men". Catherine looked at Ashley alarmed. She could hardly believe her ears. Beau noticed it too so they both bursted out laughing.

"I am quite serious", Ashley continued, feeling obviously in his own element, "English men are an option worth exploring, Cat" and started laughing himself.

Fanny Watson, she had now been informed, was the widow of a very rich and lucky investment agent that had speculated big and won just as much. He had been dead for quite a while now and left behind his wife and two daughters: Eleanor and Charlotte.

The country house was not far away from London and they traveled with the Wilkens coach. Billy had come back and joined them on the journey. He had not changed much either. A much more silent type then Beau, but still with a pleasant disposition.

"It is fortunate that this trip came up, otherwise I should have traveled again and would not be able to spend more time with you"

"How so?", Catherine asked. Billy did seem to be traveling a great deal.

"Well, I have a client that has bought a quite sophisticated machinery that is due to arrive in Liverpool in a few days but there are still a few details to take care of before that. Luckily he is Mrs. Watson's nephew and as such he will be present at the wedding."

"Well, then, I very much like your client even if I've never met him. He has the most convenient relatives", Catherine lighthearttly replied

"Well, enough of business! Cat, I desire you to try to like Mrs. Watson and her daughters", Beau said with a peculiar smile on his face …

Catherine paused for a minute to look at him and then at his brother that shared the same suspect look. "Why?", she asked with suspicion

Beau did not answer, but continued smiling …"I suppose that Charlotte Watson should be of particular interest to me", she replied amused … Beau was in love, she could tell. She was happy for him …

"It's not that she should be of particular interest", Beau said trying to hide his intentions. "But I do think that you might find you have a great deal in common with the younger Miss Watson. For example, she plays the piano almost as well as you", he added quickly remembering Catherine's fondness for the piano …

"Quite better, I should suspect", Catherine teased.

"Oh, no. I did not say that but …"

"But … ", Catherine interrupted, "I'm sure she will make a perfect partner for a duet" and put her hand on his … Beau was satisfied …

When they arrived at the house, they were greeted by a Mr. Robinson, the administrator of the estate that told them the family was out on business and that they would be back in the evening. Meanwhile, he was given instructions to show the guests to their rooms. Almost as soon as they entered the house the rain started to fall hard.

Once in her room, Catherine felt a sense of agitation that sometimes overpowered her. She had realized that there had been quite a while since she had walked through the grass barefoot.

She took off her shoes and pantyhose, let her hair down and ran outside in the garden.

The grass was soft and worm and the rain filled her with energy. She was once again at peace. She started running around laughing as she used to do in the woods when she was younger, with her arms extended as if ready to take flight.

She finally stopped in one place and started spinning around looking at the sky. All of a sudden she noticed a shadow on the ground. She stopped and looked around to find a man sitting in the entrance of the garden. She felt his eyes fixated on her. His dark blue eyes. She felt them almost as if they were burning her skin. He did not move, he did not speak but he did not remove his eyes from her either. She felt as if she was naked in front of him, or even worse, exposed. In front of a stranger. The thought was too much to bare so she turned away from that look and started running as fast as she could. Where, she did not know … Just as far away from those eyes as possible.

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So, what do you think so far? 


	2. Chapter 2: I am me

Thank you to my two reviewers ...Reviews always make me smile:)

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Chapter II – I am me 

He wondered to his room quite distracted, completely forgetting that he had promised Sheldon to show him around the house. By the time he laid on the bed, all of his clothes were soaking wet but he didn't even notice. He took his coat off and cravat and just sat down in disbelief.

"Who was she?", was the question that lingered in his mind. If he didn't know himself better, he would have thought it was a dream. "A fairy, a siren. She could hardly be called earthly". He could not stop remembering the body dancing in the rain, hands extended , head raised towards the sky, as if in prayer, bare feet touching the grass … and then she turned around to find herself taken out of the spell by him … He almost felt sorry he had interrupted …

"Almost, but not quite!", he said out loud with a half smile blooming on the left side of his lips.

Her hair tamed down by the rain , those eyes, those wet lips … It was obvious to him now that he had startled her, but at the time he was hardly conscious of anything else, besides her… "What a creature!", he thought and wondered if he would ever see her again …

-oOo-

Catherine was furiously trying to dry her hair, change her dress and hide **that** one away … anything to try and erase what had just happened. As she was rubbing the towel over and over on her hair, she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was tangling it more and more, until it had become a frizzled mass.

It was not in Catherine's character to feel ashamed by anything, especially when she knew she wasn't doing anything wrong. But she also knew how easily people judged, how violently they would behave against anything that seemed the least bit out of the ordinary, and she felt awkward. She was alone in a place she had never been in before, with people she had never met before and the worst part was Beau was in love with one of them … she did not want to think that what had just happened could in any way damage his chances with Charlotte Watson … She would never be able to forgive herself. And there was something else …. Something else that Catherine could not explain even to herself.

"He was a quite handsome man", she found herself thinking. Of course, he was nothing compared to William, but still those piercing blue eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul… "Yes, there was deffinatly something to say about those eyes" … She suddenly realized that she could hardly remember anything about that man except his eyes and a sensation that he had left in her.

The best she could hope was that he was just passing by and that he wasn't a guest of the Watson's, but somehow she knew that to be untrue.

An hour later, she had finally been able to tame her hair and pull it up in a simple yet elegant loop. She had had to make her hair and put her corset on herself for she did not want the maid to know where she had been. "One viewer is quite enough for one night". She put on a creamy-white dress that accentuated her figure and the color of her skin and the emerald her father had given her on her 15th birthday, around her neck.

Catherine looked in the mirror and could not help feeling quite pleased with the results.

"Cat! Are you ready? The Watson's are back and we're having tea in the parlor."

It was Beau. He seemed anxious. She could not keep him in that tortured state. She opened the door.

"My God, Cat! What are you planning on doing? Give every man in the room a heart attack?". Beau and his remarks. Most of the time Catherine found them amusing, but tonight his face was so serious, she could not help feeling a bit flattered.

"I promised you I would protect you from any evil dragon, but I see you intent on making me break my promise. But do not fear my lady", he continued with a official tone in his voice, "I shall protect you from any English dragon that might want to steel you away". He smiled and offered her his arm.

Through the cries of laughter, Catherine took his arm and they went downstairs.

Even before reaching the parlor, in the little hallway that led to it, Charlotte was waiting. She was obviously impatient.

"Ah, there is Miss Charlotte", Beau said adding tenderness to his usual cheerful voice, "Miss Charlotte, I would like to present my friend…. My sister, I should say, Catherine Butler".

"It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Catherine. Mister Wilkes had told me so much about you. I feel we are friends already!", she said smiling and stealing little glances of Beau now and again.

Still moved by Beau's description of her as his sister, Catherine replied: "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Charlotte."

"You must bring the guests in here, Charlotte. Otherwise they should think we are quite the savage kind". A sudden high pitched voice broke the recently formed acquaintance. It was, without a doubt, Fanny Watson.

They followed Charlotte in the parlor, where Fanny was sitting on one of the couches with what, Catherine guessed, was the other Miss Watson, Eleanor.

The Watson girls were not without charms. Catherine had liked Charlotte from the first moment. She had an openness and ease about her. She still looked like a child, although Catherine guessed she was about seventeen. Her pretty blue eyes, blond hair, beautiful smile and milk-white skin gave her a fairy like appearance that made her seem very sweet. "Yes," Catherine thought, "I should like her as a sister-in-law very much indeed".

Eleanor, on the other hand, although shared her sister's blond hair and blue eyes, was obvious quite different in character. She was sitting next to her mother, with her back as straight as she could manage and her neck fully extended. Barley moving from time to time.

"She is practicing for her role as countess, no doubt", Catherine observed amused.

As she was making her way to the couch where the Watson's were sitting, she couldn't avoid looking for Billy. She hadn't seen him since they got off the coach in the morning. Finally, she spotted him in one corner of the room, obviously engaged in a deep discussion with two other gentlemen.

"Oh, Miss Catherine. Do sit down and have some tea!", Fanny urged her. "It is fascinating to meet someone from America. I have always found it to be a quite peculiar place".

Catherine did not like the word Fanny Watson had used to describe her country, but she said nothing. Not like her at all but she had promised Beau to like all of the Watson's.

"Although,", she continued in the same over pretended way she had of speaking, "I do find Berlin to be the most interesting city I have ever seen".

This draw Eleanor Watson right out of her meditative state. "Oh, yes! It is the best place on Earth", she replied with eyes wide open.

"Ah ….. so the groom to be is from Berlin", Catherine concluded.

"Are you familiar with Berlin, Miss Catherine?", Eleanor asked, and it was the kind of trick question where the expected answer was "No" and the commentary that would follow would be one of complete disbelief and self-righteousness.

"Yes …", Catherine answered slowly, "I lived there with my parents for three years when I was younger".

This was not the expected answer. Eleanor's face suddenly dropped and a very thin "Really?", came out.

Just as Fanny was about to say something, Billy approached them.

"Will you excuse me", he said, "Catherine, I shall like to introduce you to my client and his cousin, if you don't mind.".

Catherine was grateful for the intervention. She was quite sure nothing could be worse then talking to Eleanor Watson at this point.

They crossed the room and stopped in front of the two men that were obviously still not aware of their presence.

"Catherine I would like to introduce you to Mister Sheldon Lennox and Mister James Thornton … This is my sister, Catherine Butler".

As she got ready to extend her hand to greet Billy's friends, Catherine froze. It was him, the man … the man from the garden. She was sure of it. Even if she could not remember his face earlier, being so close to him made her sure of it. And it was obvious that he knew it as well from the way he was looking at her. She wondered if he would tell everyone right then and there…

"It is an honor to meet you, Miss Butler", he said in a soft, deep voice, looking extremely serious.

She straightened her back and looked him in the eyes, smiled, took his hand and shook it confidently, "Likewise, Mister Thornton".

"Bill had told us of your beauty, Miss Catherine, but I'm afraid he did not do you justice". Catherine directed her attention towards Sheldon Lennox and was pleased to see a large smile on his face. It made her a little bit more comfortable.

"You are too kind, Mister Lennox", she replied.

"Miss Catherine …". The high pitched voice was back. She excused herself and went closer to the couch once again.

"Do you play the piano, Miss Catherine?", Fanny asked, "I find the piano to be one of the necessities of life. I, myself, am a great lover of music and playing the piano is one of my greatest pleasures",

"Yes, I do play the piano, Mrs. Watson"

"Well then .. you must play for us … I think we can all do with a little bit of entertaining."

That drew the room's entire attention on Catherine, including the serious man in the corner. It was the last thing she needed.

"Oh … no …", she tried to excuse herself, "I haven't played in weeks and I think that I am still quite tired after my journey. I do not think I would make for very good _entertainment_ tonight".

But this seemed to only fuel Fanny even more: "Nonsense. We shall like to hear you! We have never heard an American play the piano".

"Mrs. Watson", Catherine tried to hide her aggravation," I can assure you, the piano is played in the same way around the world. And I am not being modest when I say that my playing tonight will not be good …"

"Come, Catherine", Beau interrupted with a pleading voice, "please, we shall very much like to hear you play. Mrs. Watson", he underlined, "shall very much like to hear you play".

This put an end to Catherine's explanations. Beau had betrayed her. Passing him on her way to the piano, she gave him a look that made it perfectly clear just what he should expect on the first opportunity.

As she sat down in front of the piano and started to prepare, she could see Mr. Thornton and his cousin leave the room. Where, she did not know…

"I'm afraid my nephew is not very fond of music", she heard Fanny Watson say, "It's his mother, you see. She could never play the instrument", she added whispering.

Catherine started playing. She choosed "Fur Elise". It was one of her favorites and it was what she considered a "safe piece". No one could think badly of Beethoven. As she touched the piano with the first notes, she couldn't help remembering an old, black man from New Orleans that had impressed her with his piano playing, in both skill and style. She remembered the hours she had spent with him and the things she had learned: theme variations, as he had called it. A naughty look appeared on Catherine's face as she started bending and twisting Beethoven's piece with rhythms that were not at all conventional, and least of all safe. She alternated between the original theme and her own variations and gave a very dramatic finale.

Then she turned around to face her audience and was very pleased to see Fanny Watson and her daughter almost passed out on the couch.

-oOo-

James Thornton had retired to one of the studies, to be able to get way, at least for a while, from his aunt Fanny. Most of the time he was able to ignore her but tonight she just got on his nerves. He had a vague suspicion it had something to do with her attacks on their American guest, although he was not ready to accept that.

He still couldn't believe it was the same woman. One moment she's a water nymph, the other a well brought-up young lady. But there was no mistaken that face. It was her. Besides, he could smell the rain on her.

"Perhaps, she is a witch that can change at will". The thought brought a smile to his face.

"I'm willing to bet I know what has made you smile just now", his cousin interrupted his thoughts.

He raised his eyebrows expecting the punch-line.

"It must have been Miss Catherine Butler. Who else?", Sheldon replied quite convinced of himself.

"Not at all", he dismissed the thought straight away.

"Oh, come James. You mean to tell me you do not find her to be the most beautiful and fascinating woman you have ever met?"

"I suppose …", James began slowly, "if you like the completely ungraceful, farm girl kind. Did you notice her skin? It looked like she had been planting in the fields. And that white dress just made it more evident" … He did not know why he would say something like that. It was not in his nature to speak badly of a woman in any circumstances and to anyone. And more so when it was not true. He regretted it instantly.

He regretted it even more when he turned around and saw Catherine standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me", she said smiling and quickly made her way towards them. "Charlotte was looking for a sheet of music. She said it would be in here. Ah … there it is …", she said pointing at the table the two men were sitting in front off and extended her hand to take it, making them both take a step backwards.

She did not seem offended or angry at all, which only made the men feel more uncomfortable. She gave them an other quick smile and with that she was out the door.

After a good 3 minutes of silence, Sheldon turned to his cousin: "Well, it's a good thing you didn't like her, cousin ". James Thornton's face had turned to stone. They made their way back to the parlor only to find Miss Butler playing a duet with Charlotte. She seemed quite at ease

But this was not the case. Under her apparent ease and enjoyment, Catherine had to admit she was quite hurt. Even more so, when she remembered thinking he was "a quite handsome man". The worst thing was, she still thought that and she felt a sudden urge to change dresses.

-oOo-

Soon enough, it was time for dinner, so they made their way into the dining room. It was a large room, that had been decorated recently. James was heading the table.

Catherine could feel his eyes on her, but as she turned her head to face him, he quickly looked away.

They were well through the second course, and Fanny was explaining why she and her daughters hadn't been there to greet them in the morning. A wedding dress emergency!

"Well, as you might understand, we immediately had to go there. Thank God, it could be resolved because otherwise all that French lace would have gone to waste … And just two weeks before the wedding … Can you imagine that? What would have Eleanor worn then?", she said laughing, "Poor thing .. we would have resulted to make her dress out of cotton", she concluded still laughing but as her nephew looked at her, she realized what she had said.

James looked at his aunt, briefly closed his eyes, sighed and then looked away. "What was the point?", he thought.

"Anyway, ", Charlotte stepped in to try and mend an awkward situation, "as we were returning the most dreadful rain started …"

"Oh, dear God! Not the rain!", Catherine thought

"Oh, yes … I hate the rain", Eleanor added …

"What about you, Miss Butler? What are your feelings on the English rain?"

Catherine, once again, turned her head towards that deep voice that was now taunting her …

"I'm not quite sure I understand the true meaning of your question", it was her turn to taunt, "but I, deffinatly, don't run from it, if that's what you're asking. I've found that a little bit of water never harmed anyone …"

"Yes,", he added with a look of mischief in his eyes, "but you should be careful … most young ladies, from what I understand, do not enjoy to be completely soaked", and gave her a smile that seemed more of complicity …

Catherine raised her head higher so she could look at him better. "I am not most young ladies. I am me, Mister Thornton, and I make no apologies about that".

Her eyes sparkled and he felt a sudden blow to the stomach.

* * *

ok, yes! Little scene from Pride and Prejudice .. but I love that scene ... 


	3. Chapter 3: Skin deep

Chapter 3 ... ok, before reading I thought I would give you a little info, for those of you who haven't seen North&South ... so, James's father, John had to lift his family from poverty after his own father killed himself because he had lost everything speculating on the market ... which was one of the main reasons why John hated speculation and never agreed to do it even when he lost all of his assets. James fallows in his father's theories and also refuses to do such risky, ungentleman like things ... that's about it ... the reason why I'm telling you this will become apparent once you read the chapter (of course the situation with John is much more complicated then what I've written here but just to give you a general idea).

* * *

Chapter III – Skin deep 

"I am quite possibly the greatest idiot that ever lived!" … He had made a derogatory remark about a woman he had just met, which was in itself wrong. But not only that, she had heard it. He could only imagine what he must have sounded like …

"Like a XVIII century self important, useless nobleman that thinks everyone is beneath him", he said walking towards the bed … Just what he had always prided himself on not being …

But surely, what else could she think of him? He had acted wrongly and he knew it. The problem was that he was not ready to admit the strong effect she had had on him. After all he had only met her twice … And he was definitely not ready to share that with Sheldon. He was very close to him but he did not feel comfortable to talk about such things with him … or with anyone for that matter.

On the rare occasions he had found himself interested in a woman, he had thought it best to tend to such matters on his own. Bringing anyone else into it felt degrading and weak somehow. The matter had been resolved rather quickly in all cases. He had soon found himself unattached from that particular young lady. The responsibilities of his busy life had soon made him lose interest.

But this … this aching, burning sensation she had left in his stomach was like nothing he had ever known before. It consumed him, it made him want to see her again … and again. Even now that he was laying in his bed trying to sleep he felt an acute need to go to her. To be next to her, to smell her perfume, to touch her hair … He knew he could not but still his body urged it.

James stood up and started walking about the room. He chased those thoughts away … They were useless anyway for he knew that she would never have him, especially now …But he had to talk to her … to apologies … He couldn't bare the thought of her thinking so badly of him …

He calmed himself at the thought that the next day he would leave for Liverpool and would be gone for two weeks. That was sufficient time, he reasoned, to forget all about Miss Catherine Butler … He was sure of it …

"_You deserve to be the muse of the greatest poets … but you will have to content yourself with me" … said William. She smiled remembering their first encounter. _

_Now it was their wedding night. She could hardly believe it. William had traveled for her, had admitted his love and said that nothing would give him greater pleasure then to write her poetry and living a life of no opposition with her. She hoped he was not serious when he described their life together but still she could not help feeling elated at the thought of being his wife._

_And now it was finally real … She closed her eyes as he began undressing her … First her dress, moving his hands slowly on the newly uncovered flesh … Then the petticoats. He pulled her closer to him and started kissing her … her lips … his mouth … his hand … her shivering fingers … his hand in her hair, caressing it, setting it free … his fingers on her neck … then his mouth … like silk …_

_Then, all of a sudden, he stopped and looked at her with his beautiful dark eyes. He spoke to her in a charming voice: "Catherine, now that we are married I hope you do something about your skin …" …_Then she woke up. Her hair a mess, her hands sweaty …

When she finally started calming down, she knew that it had been her imagination …"Indeed, William would never say that. He's a gentleman".

The memory of the dream was still fresh in Catherine's mind as she made her way to breakfast, the next day.

"Ah! Miss Butler … How well you look this morning". Charlotte greeted her with a large smile, signaling at the same time her place at the table. Catherine couldn't help but wonder if she knew of her cousin's remark.

She had been placed between Billy and Sheldon Lennox. James was, as always, heading the table.

Billy stood up and dragged her chair for her … As she was sitting down, she said "Good morning" and with only that she could feel Sheldon get stiff. She could see that he was very embarrassed. So much so, that he was avoiding eye contact at all costs.

James was not. He seemed quite preoccupied with some papers he had placed on the corner of the table …

"Ah! James … will you please stop reading those damned papers .. We're having breakfast!", Fanny said in her high pitched voice taking the papers away …

Catherine could see how hard Thornton was trying to control himself and not snap …It amused her although she could not help but feel he had a point.

"Before you arrived, Miss Butler, I was talking about my husband", Fanny said moving her attention towards Catherine, "My Watson was a very clever man. I don't know if you are, by any chance, familiar with his exploits", she continued quite pleased with herself …

"No .. I'm afraid I am not", Catherine answered simply.

This did not sit very well with Fanny, but still she continued … "Well my Watson had the good sense to speculate, which in turn brought him a lot of money and security for his family …", with that she turned once again to James, "which your father did not, James".

This caused him to drop his fork. Fanny was very close to the end of the rope but she did not seem very concerned … "Aunt!", he replied in a contained yet menacing voice …

"Well, it's the truth … and what's even worse you refuse to do it as well. Watson always said that your father was not brave enough to speculate but I had hoped that you …", she continued in a slightly lower voice as if the others could not hear them …

This put pain to it. James had remained silent for three days, but he could no longer put up with it …"My father", he raised his voice slightly, "did what he thought was best for both him and his men … and I am trying to do the same … I do not expect Watson or indeed you, aunt, to understand that", he concluded by taking the napkin and drying his mouth. He had clearly lost his appetite …

Catherine felt quite embarrassed. For being present at what was clearly a family matter, for Fanny's behavior … and for James as well. She had seen how hard he had tried to contain himself, to avoid the discussion …And now she had lost her appetite, as well. She moved the food from one side to the other not sure if to look up or not …

"Miss Butler". Not the high pitched voice again! … "Do you agree with my nephew?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, m'am …", she said looking at Fanny.

"Well … I had heard that your own father speculated a great deal. What does his business consist of, exactly?"

This grabbed Catherine completely by surprise. She briefly looked at James, only to see that he had taken a deep breath and looked away as if he was preparing himself for a new attack …

Ever brave, Catherine began … "Well, Mrs. Watson … my father …well, he comes from a very old Charleston family ... they had a quite large plantation …" …She was now desperately trying to buy time … "But", she continued, "he decided to leave home", she passed right over the "girl problem" that was partly the reason for her father's departure, "Then he did some things" … like gambling on the Mississippi, she thought while she looked around the table. She had, by now grabbed the attention of everyone including James who was looking at her quite intrigued not knowing exactly where she has going with this … She did not know it either … "Then the war came", she continued … "during which my father helped the economy a great deal", through massive contraband, she continued the sentence in her head … She soon realized that speculating was one of the most respectable things her father had done in his business dealings. Of course he had never stolen … "not in the largest sense of the word, anyway", Catherine reasoned … but nevertheless she was left with no choice … "And, of course, Mrs. Watson … he speculated a great deal", and with that she stuck her fork in a carrot and ate it …

"Well … then …", Fanny said after a few moments of silence, "you see, James, everyone does it!"

That was it! Fanny Watson was not going to use her as a tool against her nephew. As James was getting ready to respond, she cut him off: "Excuse me, Mrs. Watson … but your nephew is right …". This made Fanny turn instantly … "It is true that my father speculated .. and won a lot of money doing it … but ", she turned slightly towards James but still kept her eyes on Fanny, "but … he did so at his on expense and taking his own chances. I do not know the particular circumstances, but from what I understand Mr. Thornton's situation, and indeed that of his father, is quite different. When you are responsible for the lives of others it is your duty to be far more careful" … And with that she turned her eyes on James and smiled.

James could not help but be enchanted. She understood him.

After breakfast, Beau proposed that they go on a "strawberry chase". Catherine knew well enough there were no strawberries anywhere near the Watson estate but she guessed the real reason behind Beau's idea: time to spend in the company of a certain Charlotte Watson. So, not only did she agree to it, she encouraged the idea as much as she could.

Fanny and Eleanor were off to the dress maker once again, so this left just Beau, Charlotte, Sheldon and Catherine. James and Billy did not participate. They had important business to discuss and closed themselves in the study shortly after breakfast.

Beau and Charlotte asked Catherine if she would like to join them on their walk, but she thought it better to let them go alone. "Third wheels are always tolerated but seldom needed", she reasoned.

Sheldon had also left her, saying that he was going to pick some flowers for "the lovely Miss Catherine", but she suspected it had something to do with last night's events.

So soon enough she had found herself alone. This was not a problem as she had a great deal to think about so she wouldn't feel the time go by. She dragged her blanket next to a large tree that offered some protection from the heat and the sun and a certain amount of seclusion.

The wind was blowing softly, making the leaves move in some kind of graceful dance and it touched her face making it smooth and light. The sun was barely reaching through the branches, just enough to cares her exposed shoulders. She had not brought a shawl to protect herself. "This will make my skin even darker", she thought. But she did not see the necessity of a shawl in the middle of summer. "Oh, well, Mr. Thornton will just have to put up with my farm girl skin" and for the first time she saw the humor in the situation.

It was quiet and Catherine took every bit of it in. It was not that she did not enjoy the company of others. But it was good from time to time to be alone with oneself.

She opened the book Mary had given her before leaving America. She did miss her so. She must write to her soon and tell her to come visit …

Ah! And Prissy … Catherine had made her father take her with him ahead … She knew he had to do a lot of traveling arranging things before settling down, so he needed someone he could trust … someone to take care of him as Catherine would if she had been with him … But now she missed her. After her mother, Prissy had become the most important woman in her life.

"Miss Butler …"

She missed her council, her support …

"Miss Butler …"

…even her somewhat indecent stories that would make even Catherine blush from time to time. That particular thought brought a smile to her face …

"Miss Butler …"

James had been sitting on the terrace watching her for some time before deciding to finally make his way towards where she was sited, not being quite sure of what to say to her. But the longer he sat there, the more his need to talk to her increased until it became unbearable. She looked so peaceful and quiet, reading her book. It was as if the entire world had stopped, leaving room only for her. The wind was slowly blowing bringing more color to her cheeks and her lips.

He was now standing right in front of her. He would only have to extend his hand in order to touch her face. And he wanted to, desperately. He wanted to bring her hair down, around her shoulders and run his fingers through it. He wanted to caress her face … her lips … He wanted to touch her lips.

As if she had heard his thoughts, she brought one of her hands to her mouth and started running her fingers over it again and again. All he wanted to do at that moment was to grab her by the waist and kiss her but he knew he could not. So he simply called her …

She did not respond even if he had tried twice. He was so close, it could hardly be that she did not hear him. But looking at her, he could tell that she was too absorbed in her thoughts to even realize he was there. So he tried again, this time razing his voice slightly.

Catherine finally looked up. "Oh! I'm sorry, Mr. Thornton. I did not see you …", she said feeling quite awkward.

"Yes, I could tell you were far away", he said smiling … "Miss Butler, I wonder if I could have a word with you?", he asked extending his hand to help her up.

"Yes, of course", Catherine replied giving him her hand.

As he was lifting her to her feet he couldn't help but notice that it was the second time they had touched. He was starting to keep track. But it was really the first time he paid attention to the hand that he was holding, to actually be aware of its presence. A had shake had been to him a mere social function until that particular moment. But now it had taken an entire new meaning …This was not a hand shake …It was holding a hand … Catherine's hand …

She passed her hands over her dress to remove anything that might have gotten stuck after sitting on the ground for so long, then raised her face towards him … "What do you want to talk to me about, Mr. Thornton?", she asked with a smile on her face trying to be a civil as possible, although she found the closeness to him quite unsettling.

She could even smell his perfume, fresh and musky. He moved his mouth in a particular way that Catherine had to admit she liked. His smile was warm and tender and he looked quite relaxed now walking with her through the grass, as opposed to the serious manner he had put on in the parlor that first night or the irritated state his aunt had him in that very morning. The wind was blowing through his short, dark hair, disheveling it just a little … which, Catherine had to admit, worked to his advantage as it made his features softer, revealing that he was still a young man. The first time she had seen him, he seemed to be much older, especially given the authority he had over his cousin and, to some extent, even Billy. And then … those eyes … Try as hard as she might she could not overlook them, especially since from the beginning of their short walk they had not looked at anything except her …

"Miss Butler,", he started evidently nervous, "I would like to apologies" …

"Please, Mr. Thornton, there is no need", she interrupted him. She did not what to hear this. She knew he must feel embarrassed that she overheard him but she did not want to hear polite lies about how what he had said was untrue and so on … Couldn't he just let it lay?

"I think there is …", he continued stopping as if to make his point clearer … "I was unforgivably rude and I want to assure that what I said was not …"

"Please, Mr. Thornton …if anyone has to extend their apologies here, it is me…"

"Excuse me?" … Was she mocking him? She was clearly denying him even the right to ask for her forgiveness …

"Well … I was after all the one that came into the room without knocking. That was wrong and it was the reason why I heard what was by all accounts a personal conversation. So you must excuse me …" …

"Miss Butler …", he had to make his position clear …

"As for your words", she was determined not to let him talk, "you can be sure that they did not offend me …". He looked at her in disbelief, raising his eyebrows. "It was after all your opinion and I know that it is quite impossible to be liked by everyone. So you must not feel embarrassed for speaking your mind". With that she concluded, took a breath and smiled at him politely …

He could feel her smile was cold and formal and he couldn't help but respect the way she had cut the branch right from under his feet but she was also so wrong. He had to let her know that …

He got a little closer to her, even at the risk of appearing too bold … "Miss Butler", he began in a soft, low voice that seemed to pass right through her skin and travel straight into her mind, "I can assure you that my opinion of you …"

"Catherine … Catherine" …

And with that the magic was broken. She turned her head instantly. It was Beau and Charlotte returning from their walk. There were no strawberries, of course. But they had managed to pick up some rocks.

"Mr. Thornton", she turned her attention to him for just a moment longer, "let us just forget this event ever took place and shake hands …". She extended her hand which he took into his own feeling once again her skin softly against his own.

"I understand you are leaving today for Liverpool". He nodded. "Well then , I wish you a safe journey". And with that she removed her hand from his and walked towards Beau and Charlotte.

He looked back as she was greeting her friends, smiling and even giving Beau a hug. He had never been envious of anyone in his life, but now he was.

He saw how contented and interested she was in her new conversation and it made him sure that she had already forgotten their discussion, that it had meant nothing more to her then a unfortunate event that had to be resolved and once it had she had moved on.

This hurt, because for him it had meant so much more. For the first time in his life, he felt the need to own up to something, at least to himself … but he refused to do it. "No!" … He would go to Liverpool, he would take care of his business and put an end to this madness.

A few hours later, Billy and James were making their way to the train that was going to take them on their journey. They put their bags inside and spent the next ten minutes outside in order for Billy to smoke his cigarette.

As James was finally getting on, a young lady boarding the same train, looked at him and smiled. He did not notice … .


	4. Chapter 4: Chance meeting

Chapter IV – Chance meeting

The journey back from Liverpool found James Thornton in a very pleasing disposition. Things had gone smoothly and he managed to buy his machine and accompany it back to Milton.

He had spent the next few days trying to train his employees in the efficient and safe way of running the newly bought equipment and by the end if it, he was satisfied that everything was running as planned. He would have liked to stay on in Milton and supervise the mill but he had to make his way back to London for Eleanor's wedding.

He was confident that Higgins would make sure everything was done right. Since he had taken over the mill, after his father's death, Higgins had helped James in any way he was able to. He had soon become his right hand man and the person whose judgment he trusted the most in matters of business.

However, the trip to London was not met with as much aggravation as James had thought of previously. Even if he had a hard time accepting it, he was looking forward to being in his aunt's house again.

He wondered what she would look like now that it had been two weeks since he had not seen her. He wondered if she would have the same effect on him but he was sure she would not.

In the two weeks he had been away, her image had been a constant companion during his nights and even during the days. He would see a woman dressed in a green dress and he would think of her under the tree at their last meeting. The rain would start and he would think of her body dancing under it. The grass would remind him of her scent. A beautiful smile would bring her own to mind, illuminating her face and bighting her eyes …

He would find himself thinking of her while negotiating a price or while explaining procedures to his employees. He would chase her away quickly. It was unacceptable for him to have such thoughts when his main concern should be "to maintain order and stability in the mill", as his grandmother would put it.

In the brief days he had been back home, he saw that his mother, but especially his grandmother, was watching him most carefully. They did not say anything, of course, but still he knew that they could see something about him was different. He wondered if they suspected the real reason for his rather meditative mood.

He did not tell them of course that the reason for his sleepless nights was a girl that he had known for less then two weeks. He would have felt silly admitting to that. Admitting that he felt as if he were a teenager in love.

He had never been in love as a teenager. Too many responsibilities for that , of course. But he could tell now that it was a most uncomfortable feeling.

Still spending hours wondering what she was doing in that particular moment, whether there were other men around her while he was gone or if she thought about him, felt counterproductive to James … Besides, he was quite sure that she did not think about him.

As the train pulled into the London station, he had come to the conclusion that he had a idealized image of Catherine Butler in his head and that once faced with reality he would be more then disappointed.

Catherine was getting ready for the ceremony. Safe to say she had been doing just that since she had gotten up at six … and it was now twelve and she was not yet near being ready. She had not been able to sleep very well …

Weddings would always leave her in this state of excitement. She spent countless hours thinking about what to wear and how the night would be. With all of her eccentricities, she still loved grand balls and dancing the night away. And this was sure to be a very grand evening … Fanny would make sure of it.

Catherine was quite certain that Mrs. Watson had spent half of her departed husband's fortune on the affair … "After all, the groom is a count!", Fanny would remind her every day. "He is a little grey but still an excellent match for my Eleanor".

Lord Fitz, as Catherine called him because try as hard as she might, she could never remember his full name, was more then just a little grey. He was about 55, Catherine estimated but he seemed much older. "Yes, indeed ... Father looks younger then him and he is more then ten years his senior", Catherine thought with a smile of amusement. And even putting the age difference aside, there was still very little to recommend the gentleman. He was tall, which a man ought to be if he possibly could, but he was so thin and dried that it made no improvement. He had no interesting conversation to add to any topic that might be discussed. He was an all together dull person … But he was a count … and a quite rich one at that … So, Catherine supposed, that was enough for some.

But still … Eleanor's poor taste in men would not put a cloud on this day. For it was a beautiful, sunny day and the night, she was sure, would be lovely as well, especially since the terrace had been arranged so that guests could stay out as much as they liked. Large, ornated torches had been brought especially from London and had been placed round the terrace and all over the garden. At night, they would offer a most intimate and romantic light, Catherine was sure …

It was a pity William was not here with her. The romantic mood would have suited them very well, she thought and giggled.

A letter and a package had arrived for her just two days before from her father. Upon hearing the news that she was to attend a wedding he had sent her a new bonnet that he had purchased in Paris.

He had assured her in the letter that it would go beautifully with her butter-cream dress … "the one that has the pale green flowers", he had added.

His letter had surprised Catherine for he had informed her he was still unsure of the exact place where they would settle. He still had to view several possibilities and see where his ventures would be most advantageously met.

This would mean that she would have to spent still a large period of time with the Wilkes's, which did not displeased her at all but it did greave her for it meant that she would have to be away from her father for quite some time to come.

But all of her sadness dissolved in an instant when she opened the box and took out her father's present.

"Oh, papa!", she said out loud. "You always did have such perfect taste for women's clothing …".

It was a beautiful black hat with a quite daring design. It was meant to be worn slightly tilted and one side was raised, while the other was lowered almost on the edge of the eye. It looked very elegant and seductive. Catherine was quite sure it would shock a great many, but she did not care.

Looking at herself in the mirror now, she could not help but be pleased. The butter-cream dress was perfectly fitted. The maid had arranged her hair beautifully, in a elegant, complicated loop and the hat would insure she did not go unnoticed.

With a last wink, she left the room and headed for the garden.

As the hours pasted, James grew increasingly nervous. His train had been delayed for a good portion and he had now arrived at his aunt's house extremely late. He met with her disapproving gaze as soon as he walked through the door, but managed to escape quickly by saying he had to get ready, otherwise Eleanor would be late for the wedding.

He barley had time to change. In her impatient state, Fanny had arranged his clothes on the bed and he could not help feeling grateful to her for that as he rushed to change his shirt and fix his cravat.

He was done rather quickly and rushed out of the room without as much as a glance in the mirror … His aunt was of course waiting for him in the hallway.

She seemed to be in a pleasing disposition because she smiled tolerantly upon him. She came closer and fixed his collar:

"Say what I might about you, Jamie … but you do clean up good.". She caressed his face in a rare moment of tenderness and then quickly turned away, heading towards Eleanor's room.

"But to take more to get ready then the bride herself is a little much", she warned.

James sighed and quickly fallowed Fanny. He was not going to lose his temper today. This was Eleanor's day and he would try his best. He approached the room attentively and stood in the doorway, looking quite awkward. He knew what his duty was as head of the family … in this tragically fatherless family … He was supposed to fill Eleanor with confidence and to tell her she made a beautiful bride.

But he felt strange doing that. After all, he was not married nor was he old enough to be Eleanor's father … There was no reason to warrant such behavior on his part.

But both Eleanor and Fanny were now standing still, waiting for his reaction and as always James did not want to disappoint. He straitened his posture and put on the rigid mask of collected confidence. People seemed to believe that of him. He always blamed his nose for the stern appearance he possessed. "Well …", he said approaching Eleanor with a warm smile, "it's not cotton …" and looked back on his aunt. Eleanor looked quite baffled by his response so he added quickly: "You look beautiful, cousin.". He kissed her softly on the cheek and took her hand into his own. And she did, he thought. Eleanor looked beautiful and the dress throughout all of Aunt Fanny's flamboyance looked in good taste and was kept simple.

"Shall we?", he asked looking back on his aunt and extending his hand.

They walked slowly towards the church with James escorting both of the women. As they were getting closer, he could see the great number of people that had gathered near the small church and he felt Eleanor's grip on his arm tighten. He wondered all of a sudden if she was scared. He did not know of such things but surely marriage must be encountered with some kind of resistance on the part of young ladies.

He turned towards her as she was getting ready to ask him something from behind the thick layers of her veil, and leaned down. He did not know what she wanted to tell him but he was sure that whatever was bothering her, he would try to help. In turn, Eleanor whispered in his ear: "Will I be good enough, you think? He is a count you know!".

There was true concern in her voice and James could not believe his ears. Count Federic Fitzstein of Schloosenmarck was a poor excuse for a man, in James's opinion and had very little to recommend him but his title, which James did not hold in such high regard to begin with. And to have his cousin, a young, pretty, rich girl, so much in awe of him seriously pained him. And her question must have been among the silliest things he had ever heard. He shook his head tolerantly and patted her on the hand: "You will be fine, Eleanor", and it was more a personal conclusion then a reassurance.

As he saw the guests slowly making their way inside the church, James could not help but look for Catherine. He knew she was there, among all those people but he could not see her. From his tall stature, his eyes searched for her nervously, anxious to get but a mere glimpse of her but nothing ….

It was a few moments later that he finally saw her. He was making his way towards the altar, escorting Eleanor when he spotted her on the left. The vision almost made him trip over the bride's dress. He managed to salvage a potentially embarrassing situation and he gasped quickly.

Whatever image he had preserved of her in the past two weeks … that image he thought too beautiful to be real … she somehow had managed to surpass it. She kept her hands folded in font of her and she held her head high with a proud, decided look. Her eyes gleamed in mischief and she was repressing a smile, as if she was a little girl that had been caught doing something very naughty.

This attitude hardly seemed Christian humility to James, but he could not see the harm. She knew full well every man in the church was secretly stealing glances of her and her black hat and she was making the best of it. And even if James knew he was just another bystander watching her, he could not help but feel he was the only one who should be allowed to.

While giving the bride away and through out the ceremony, he tried to be as detached and concentrated as possible, but now and again his eyes wondered back towards those enchanting green eyes and that black bonnet. All of a sudden his blue gaze intersected with hers. She smiled politely upon him, as a ruler does upon her subject and then turned her attention once again towards the ceremony.

And with just that one moment … that fleeting, inconsequential moment …James Thornton knew there was no escaping. He was in love with her.

It took the rest of the ceremony and a better part of the brunch for him to find his bearings.

"Ah! Miss Butler …", his aunt said in her over pretentious way watching Catherine stepping up to meet them. "That is a very interesting bonnet …".

"Mrs. Watson …", Catherine responded in her low, collected voice. She gave no response to Fanny's challenge. She merely refrained to a small, tight smile. "Forgive me for not coming sooner to offer my congratulations. It was a beautiful ceremony. You must be very pleased."

"Oh, yes …It did cost a pretty penny".

The conversation stopped. Catherine could not find a common topic with Fanny for as hard as she might try, so she turned her attention towards James. "Mr. Thornton …", she said extending her hand.

"Miss Butler". His voice sounded hoarse and awkward. "How are you today?", he forced himself to ask.

"Oh, I'm fine … It's a beautiful day. How was your journey?". Catherine made an effort to ask. She did not want to seem completely rude towards him but she was anxious to finish and retire to her chamber until dinner.

James withdrew his hand regretfully and answered: "It was very productive.". He whished he could find something much more interesting to tell her but he did not seem to possess anything that he thought might interest her.

"I'm glad of it …", she responded and smiled. The same polite, detached smile he thought. He yearned for the day when he would never again receive such smiles from her.

As Catherine was about to leave them, Fanny stopped her with some news: "Ah! Miss Butler …I had to change your place at the dinner table tonight … I had a rather impatient request from someone to be seated next to you. Can you guess who?", Fanny asked teasing her.

Fanny had asked her several days ago where she would prefer to sit and Catherine had answered that she would like to be seated next to the Wilkes's as they were her family and she did not know anybody else, so this unexpected news met with her disliking. Especially because he did not see anyone form Fanny's party that she might be interested in making particular conversation with. She looked at Thornton before answering and saw that he had become rather stiff and uncomfortable. For a man that was always in control of his reactions, this seemed strange to Catherine. She wondered if he had been the one who had made the request. He did not seem the type that would resort to such things to charm women, but she could be mistaken. "I don't have the slightest indication as to who it might be, Mrs. Watson.", she answered giving a complete disinterested tone to her voice.

Fanny smiled as if to say that she knew that to be false but still continued … "Well, he is among our most important guests tonight. A close acquaintance of Fitz, of course … It's Lord Fenton."

Catherine's blood ran cold. The mention of that name brought a rather icy light to her eyes. Her posture froze and she swallowed back the rather unladylike line that was threatening to escape her lips. "Not that odious man!", she thought. She wondered if Mrs. Watson and her nephew knew the rest of the story and how it was that Fenton and she had been acquainted …Still, from what her mother had told her of him she thought against it. It was not like Fenton to spread such things … He would rather just imply them.

She thought about running or just locking herself in the room for the night as to avoid him …"Damn him!", she thought. She would not let him ruin her evening nor would she hide in her room like a scared, little puppy … She was Scarlet O'Hara's daughter after all.

She composed herself quickly and smiled. "Thank you for the news, Mrs. Watson", she said in a calm, collected voice. "Now if you will excuse me, I will retire to my chamber until dinner.". She bowed quickly and then walked out of the garden keeping her back as straight as she could.

It was now night. The torches were burning high and the smell of night flowers was slowly invading the Watson garden, intoxicating the guests with joy and desire to dance. The music could be heard from the house and its rhythms even if not quick enough to invite to movement, were already making Catherine's feet dance.

She kept mostly to the grounds that night. She spent time talking with Ashley and Harriet, who had just arrived that very afternoon. Beau had been nearly unreachable these last few days, helping Charlotte Watson with whatever she needed. "He is now, most certainly, inside advising Miss Watson what pins would go best with her gown", she said to Harriet smiling. She could tell that Harriet and Ashley would be more then happy to call Charlotte "daughter" one day.

Catherine tried to avoid the house as much as possible, even if it meant sometimes walking in circles. But she preferred it to having to meet Fenton. It was enough that she would have to sit next to him all through dinner. Even the fact that her tight skirt clanged to her legs making it hard to move through the high grass did not seem to bother Catherine.

She only hoped she had protected the dress well enough not to be stained by the time she would get into the house.

Finally, she heard the calling for dinner and knew it was time to go in. The delicate pink and green brocade and the thin layers of chiffon produced a whispering sound as she made her way through the hallway towards the dinner hall. The long train was slowing her down and the intricate embroidered panel on her shoulders and short sleeves was starting to itch but still she tried to keep her pace slow and graceful. It was difficult to put up with these dresses but the image they produced in the mirror convinced women to bare it. She put her hand on the green scarf that had been placed around her waist to try and regulate her breathing as she entered the large, imposing room, in an attempt to conceal her small physical exercise. Still, her cheeks looked flushed from the night wind and a few strands of hair had fallen out of her complicated, tall twist.

James stood in one of the corners looking at her, as she made her way through the crowd of people. He had been waiting for her to come in for some time now. The news she had received earlier that day had unbalanced him more then it did her, he suspected.

He watched her slender figure walking about the room, and the trail of freshness she seemed to leave behind. She was breathtaking, he thought. The pale colors softened her features making her seem so young and pure, that it pierced James's heart just to look at her as he did.

He felt drawn to her, inexplicably so. He started to walk towards her. He did not know what he was going to say once he had gotten there but just to be near her was enough.

But before he could get to her, Fanny stepped in and she wasn't alone. A tall gentleman was accompanying her. James guessed it was Fenton. Even if he had never met the man, the general description he had heard of him seemed to coincide. He was a distant, cold sort of person somewhere in his fifties. His posture was very rigid and he seemed to possess a high opinion of himself.

James disliked him. Not only because he was now talking to Catherine but mostly because of all the things he had heard of him. Gambling, promiscuity and cruelty seemed to accompany Fenton through out his life and those were things that James despised in any man, especially those of high birth for they were the ones that were never judged for it.

He watched as Fenton smiled pleasingly upon Catherine and took her hand into his own. He wondered if she knew the kind of life Fenton led. He closed his eyes momentarily. The thought of Catherine at one of Fenton's obscene parties sickened James. She did not seem to enjoy the interaction, but he could not be sure. After all the man was extremely wealthy and he was a count. He wondered if Catherine was the type of woman easily impressed by shinny things.

All through dinner, he watched them. No, indeed! She did not seem pleased at all. She looked awkward and uncomfortable. She looked away every time Fenton spoke to her. Her answers were short and she seemed all together cold.

"Where are all those brave gentlemen that requested a place in my card earlier today?", Catherine thought aggravated as she moved towards the small parlour placed at the back of the grand ballroom. The music was playing joyful tunes that made the young stand up and dance. But not her … Fenton was watching her with his hawk eyes and was now approaching …"Well, I must say I was most curious to see what had become of the little girl I met in Ireland so long ago.". His manner and smile was all politeness and charm, but his eyes wondered loosely over Catherine's body, making her flush in anger. This was no the way to behave towards a young lady and he knew it full well. She tried to keep her wits about her and answered in a sharp tongue: "Neither of us are what we used to be eighteen years ago, Lord Fenton.". She had been a mere girl then, enchanted by the appearance of the man he was without knowing that there was a cold, empty space beneath it. She felt ashamed for liking him so much then … But now it was a different matter. She knew what he was now and with all his charm and fitting apparel, he could not conceal that he was old.

"Come, Catherine …", he said in a commanding manner, calling her by her name even if she had not given him leave to. "We should try to be friends again. I think you will find me a most entertaining friend …", he said with a cunning smile.

Her mother had told her once that she had liked Fenton because he reminded her of Catherine's father. She could see why. He had the same hawk eyes and sharp, decided nose. But there was a coldness and wickedness in Fenton's look that was not found in her father's. She thanked the heavens that this man had not been a part of her life. But it was clear that the years had taken away part of Fenton's subtlety. She opened her fan with one swift move and raised it up to the edge of her eye. "Thank you. But I am more then capable of entertaining myself.", she said with a raised eyebrow.

Fenton tilted his head back and gave out a quiet, guttural laugh: "Just like your mother!".

He took a few steps closer and Catherine was sure he was going to invite her to dance. She had to find some way of getting out of it. The thought of dancing with this man that had called her mother "easy" and her a "bastard" made her skin crawl.

"Miss Butler". Catherine could hear a soft, low voice coming from behind. It was peaceful and warm. In opposition with Fenton's cold, demanding gaze, that voice seemed to bring salvation itself calling her back from some dark place. She turned around to find herself face to face with James Thornton. Never was this man's presence more welcomed to Catherine.

His tall, stern presence seemed to tower even over Fenton and he did not seem at all unsettled by him, as everyone else there. "Mr. Thornton …". Her voice was hopeful and she offered him a large, inviting smile.

"I wondered if your card is not already full, you might do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Butler", James said smiling and leaning slightly.

"Of course …", she answered quickly before Fenton could have a chance to step in. She handed him her hand and walked without looking back.

"Thank you", she whispered as they were making their way through the many couples that were occupying the dancing area.

James was slightly amused to see real gratitude in her eyes, as if he had saved her from a fate worst then death. "You did not seem very much at ease", he offered as explanation.

"The worst of it was …", she said with a tone of complicity, "that I thought there was no escaping. No one seems to want to interfere with Lord Fenton …". She paused for a few seconds thinking about the matter. "Although I should have expected it from you, Mr. Thornton …".

"How so ?", James asked intrigued as they were finally arriving to the center of the room

"Well … you do not strike me as a man easily intimidated."

"Miss Butler .. I think you shall have to rethink that as I see we're about to dance", James joked as they took their places. "I have not done this in a very long time", he admitted dropping his head slightly. He was sure she always had opportunities to dance and his skills would leave her terribly disappointed.

"That is not good, Mr. Thornton", Catherine teased. "We shall have to rectify it immediately" …The music started and they danced.


	5. Chapter 5: Wild and beautiful

Sorry for the long wait and Merry Christmas!

* * *

Chapter V – Wild and beautiful

Catherine was walking frantically through the garden. She had left straight after breakfast without a word to anyone and she was now wondering further into the Watson's grounds then ever before. She felt restless and annoyed with everyone around her.

She had always been like this ...She could be charming and behave as the young, well brought up young lady everyone expected her to be ... but only for a limited amount of time. And that time was slowly running out.

She missed being in her own home and behaveing as she felt like and not as she should ... When she was at home, she would run around the house barre foot, with her hair down in a comical mess, that her father lovingly called „your cat hair" ... She would play the piano as loud as she wished in twisted, scandalous sounds that she had learned over the years and spend far too much time in the kitchen ... Since she had been a little girl, she would always intangle herself between Prissy's leggs, causing the old woman to lose her balance, searching for an occupation and most of the time causing culinar disasters ... until her ever vigilent nanny had decided to give her a real occupation ... She taught her everything she knew of food and deserts ... and Catherine was never happier then when she was in the kitchen, baking a pie and sitting on the nearest chair to the cooking machine, loundging in the warmth and smelling the sweet scent of baked apples.

She could do none of that at the Watson residence. People would think she was out of her mind.

And it was not only her restless nature that had began to torment her in the last few days. She missed her father terribly. She had never been away from him for such a large period of time and she felt the absence quite actuley... Rhett had always indulged his daughter's independent nature by allowing her time away from him but never quite as much as now ...

And then there was the ever growing problem of William Redcliff. He had never left her since she had been away from him ... he was always in the back of her mind, in her dreams and everywhere around her. But, still, there was no news from him, even if she had sent word to both Mary and some other close aquiantences of his as to her exact location. If he would have wanted to contact her, he could have found out where she was.

But, she reasoned, he was very reserved. It was not that he did not want her ... It was just that he did not know how to show it. She would have to find a way for the both of them.

She was now moving with large steps, lifting her legs high as to be able to move through the grown grass and holding her skirts with both hands so that they would not get in the way. The back side of her yellow, muslin dress was already half coverd in mud as it had rained the day before and several lockes of hair had escaped from the concealments of her elegant bun. The sun was burning bright and she found herself once more without a shawl.

„What would momma say?", she wondered with a sly Butler grin on her face. She had been wondering that for a very long time. Surley, her beautiful, clever mother would have found a way for William to fall in love with her immediatley. Catherine found herself more then ill equiped for the task of flirting and she needed that talent quite rapidley, otherwise she would be in danger of losing William to some white-faced ninny ... and that was something she could not barre.

Even now, in the wildreness greenery of the Watson estate, far away from him, Catherine was reviewing everything that her mother had taught her over the years. To keep her voice and smile as honey. To be light as air and tend to her nails diligentley ... Catherine knew there was more then that. She just could not remember what ... She wished she had paid more attention to her mother's words when she had the chance instead of running out to do God knows what.

Even so she knew Scarlett would have disapproved greatley of her decision not to wear a shawl or of wandering through the land, when there were people to be met inside the house ... She knew this even if her mother had never spoken to her of it ...

Without giving a moment's time to think about whether someone might be looking for her or how much time had passed since she had left, she advanced further, through the rocky terrain towards some tall trees that seemed to offer protection and sollace ... She was in desperate need of the comfort of silence ... Even Beau and his parents, whom she loved greatley, were not wellcomed at this particular moment ... She needed to be alone.

It was not until she got closer to the trees that she realized that she was far from being alone ... There was a particular tree somewhere to the far right of her vision that seemed more then a little crowded. At the base of the tall, strong oak stood a little boy ... Catherine could not see his face, but she could tell he was extremley focused ... his head raized high, looking for something and making strange movements with his arms ... and from somwhere up high in the tree she could hear the desperate cries of something ... „A kitten!", she reasoned ... The sounds were frightening and pleading and once Catherine got even closer she realized the naughty little boy was throwing rocks upwards in an attempt to scare the poor creature down from her safe hiding place.

„Rocks?!?", she said alarmed and immediatley started running ... She hated rocks!

Once behind the boy, she grabed his arm not gentley enough and turned him towards her. Her face angry, her hair disheveled ... it was no wonder the little boy was immediatley stratled ... „What are you doing with those rocks?", Catherine demanded to know harshley.

„I ... I ...". The boy fumbled with the words ... If Catherine had realesed him now , he would have run desperatley, but she held him tight so the little boy had no other choice but to look down at his boots and start whipping slowly. „I'm sorry!", he whispered.

It was only at this moment that Catherine realized what she had been doing ... which was scaring a little boy sensless ... She suddantley felt very ashamed with herself. After all, he was not one of the boys that had ...Never mind! She didn't want to think about that now ... She spoke in a soft, soothing voice hoping to relieve some of his fears. „It's all right!", she said patting him on the head. „No harm done. But you must promise to never do something like that again ... after all what did the little thing do to you?". She pulled his chin up so he would face her. „Promise?", she asked smiling. The little boy nodded quickly and as soon as he was realesed, he made a desperate run away from the trees and the mean lady.

Catherine shook her head in disapproval and turned her attention towards the other problem that needed solving. She came close enough to touch the trunk of the tree and looked up to see if she could place the little animal. She soon founded it on one of the top branches, looking down frightened and slightley unbalanced.

The kitten could not have been more then a month old, if that. It had gotten up the tree out of shire fear but it would never be able to get down ...it would either die up there or slip and die in the fall ... it's lims and instincts were not yet strong enough to enable it to come out of a fall such as that one.

There were no two ways about that ... Catherine was determined to climb up that tree and save the kitten ... She made a bold move grabing one of the lower branches with both hands and attempting to place her feet on the trunk in such a way that she could get the support she needed. The plan failed instantley. Her various skirts got sutck to her boot and made her lose her balance, slip and fall back on the ground, causing even more damage to the once impecable yellow dress.

„Damnation!", she thought. Why did women's clothing have to be so complicated? This was going to be harder then she had thought.

Fanny was sitted at her ussual place at the table, taping her foot against the pavement and growing increasingley weary. She had never been fond of the girl but now she had gone missing just when it was time to have lunch? Did she not know it was common courtesey to keep the hours the hoast sets for you?

When she had asked the Wilkes's and Beau in particular to stay an extra two weeks, after the ceremony, in the hopes that Charlotte would get closer to securring a husband, her only regret had been having to put up with that girl Beau insisted on calling „his sister" ... even if she wasn't, she kept telling herlself. She had never liked Catherine Butler ... She was a tad too proud and condecending for her own good ... She almost reminded Fanny of ... she winked in distress at having to say the name in her head: „Margaret Thornton" ... Still, Miss Butler had more right to be high and mighty then her insufferable sister – in – law for her father was richer then a Pharaoh … But still Fanny had no use for the American ... if she had had a boy she would right now be overjoyed with the "ever lovely Miss Butler" but as it was she didn't care if she did not see the peculiar girl again in her life! "Will someone go look for her!", she said all of a sudden forgetting propriety and causing the entire room to look at her. Charlotte turned her head embarrassed from her piano where she had been showing Beau one of her favorite pieces and help pass the time and Harriet gave her friend a more then disapproving gaze … Only Ashley smiled placidly. It was not in his nature to bicker. He hated opposition of any kind …Mrs. Watson's remark had been more then inappropriate but still he would not hold it against her … He laid his paper aside and stood up slowly … "I will find her …", he said with a friendly tone.

"Please! Do not bother yourself, Mr. Wilkes", James said abruptly raising from his own chair where he had been seating reading some of his paper work that seemed to always accompany him … "I will go!". His voice was pleading and apologetic ... but there was also conviction and decision … the kind which Ashley could never oppose … the kind that had convinced him to stay in Atlanta and run a lumber mill when all he wanted to do was to run away as far as he could …and the kind that had carried him through the streets and home to safety on the fateful night he had gotten shot. He smiled politely and resumed his seat. "Yes!", he thought. "He will do very well …".

James left the room quickly, before his aunt could have the opportunity to object … and he started making his way through the garden.

He longed to spend time with Catherine … Spend time with her was of course a figure of speech … It was more, time spent in her presence. He could tell how restless she had become over the last few days. Always jumpy, always eager to get away from everyone.

He did not take this personally … He had come to realize it was her nature. She was perhaps one of the freest people he had ever met and he could not help but admire that. He also knew who fiercely the world fought against people like her and he could not help but want to protect her against its wrath and keep her just as free as she was now. He would hate to see her change under the unforgiving pressure of social conventions.

He also knew that despite this distance that she had put between her and the rest of the world in the past few days, her soul was filled with kindness and light … Their dance had been proof enough of that. The memory of her sweet smile and his hands on her slim waist were still engraved in James Thornton's mind.

He walked on the marked, gravel road for several minutes before finally spotting her in front of a tall tree. She was jumping up and down frantically, obviously enraged because she was not making any progress. He did not know what she wanted to achieve but he hurried his step towards her, half amused by the sight.

"Why are you being like this?", Catherine cried out aggravated. "Can't you see I'm only trying to help?". She was now so determined and focused that she had began to talk to the cat that was starring back extremely confused. In normal circumstances, Catherine would have seen the ridiculous of the situation … but as it was, she could not for the life of her understand why the cat was being so stubborn and would not come down a few branches in order to be rescued. "You are being unreasonable!", she said shoving her foot into the ground as if to further prove her point.

James stood behind her, undetected, ready to burst out laughing. He managed to control himself and looked at her with a soft smile. The right half of her hair had fallen out of her bun while the other barley hung on, her dress was covered in mud and she was talking to a cat about reason … And, still, he thought her to be the most beautiful, fascinating woman he had ever met. He cleared his throat softly and spoke in a light voice as to avoid startling her: "Miss Butler …".

Catherine jumped at the sound of the low, soothing voice that she, despite herself, had began to associate with a certain feeling of comfort and safety …She quickly turned to face Mr. Thornton with a guilty, embarrassed look. The sight of him did not help her feelings one bit. He was in a perfect physical state. His suit was impeccable and fitted him perfectly. The crisp collar of his white shirt sat around his neck impeccably. There was no mud on his shoes or trousers. His hair steeled around his face, his eyes scorching blue and his smile enchanting. He was perfect! Every time she saw him, he had not a hair out of place, not a look that did not seem decided and in control …"He has probably been perfectly well behaved and impeccable as a baby", she thought aggravated. Where as she was a mess. She always seemed to be a mess when she met this man but especially now. She realized full well how she must look … like a mad woman sleep walking.

She spoke in a low, shaking voice … "Mr. Thornton …". "Damn him! Damn him and that condescending smile on his face!", she thought. She wondered if he had any idea of just how charming that smile was. Even she, that had no interest in him, could not escape it's appeal. She was sure there must be a great many women out here in love with this man.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Butler?", he asked kindly. She seemed uncomfortable, like a little girl caught doing something she shouldn't have ... and he did not want her uncomfortable around him.

"I … I …" … She wanted to make a quick excuse and disappear before his eyes would look straight into her soul as they had the bad habit of doing … but then she reminded herself that he had helped her and, for that, he deserved an answer, so she simply said the truth in a small whine fit for a five year old … "It won't come down!", she said pointing to the tree.

James's smile grew even larger in the face of such a innocent reply …"Well … allow me …", he said moving closer to the tree and removing his coat in the process.

"No, please, Mr. Thornton! You mustn't …", Catherine tried to stop his resolve, but was given no attention. She wondered if he had ever climbed a tree in his life but she soon received a answer as James started moving up the tree with expert, long movements.

He soon reached the kitten, which he picked up in his arms at the expense of a few scratches. He made his way down with careful steps and the affair was finally resolved … What would have taken Catherine forever, James achieved in the space of a few minutes.

The scratches on his hands stung a bit but as he handed her the kitten, the grateful look on her face was more then worth it.

"Thank you …", she said taking the kitten into her arms. "Oh, there!", she said pointing to on of his sleeves … "I have caused you to dirty your shirt!".

"It's of no consequence", he said smiling. "I have others …".

"Oh, I do not doubt that!", she said smiling mysteriously and started walking back towards the house.

He did not understand what she meant by that reply, and even if he sensed a soft hint of mockery, he let go of it. With his large, unhurried steps he quickly caught up with her, and started walking next to her, finding the closeness quite appealing.

Being so close to her heightened his senses, but he could not say the same of her. She seemed lost somewhere, away from him … She was softly caressing the small kitten that had taken refuge next to her chest but it was clear that her mind had drifted to another place. He could not allow this …He needed her with him, so he started speaking, drawing her back even at the cost of her weary eyes and cold voice. "What do you intend to do with it?"

"Keep it, of course" … Her answer was short and to the point.

He could not oppose her on that, even if he knew full well his aunt would never allow any kind of animal inside the house. "But …", he reasoned, "what she doesn't know, can't hurt her."

Finally they arrived at the house and James knew that Fanny would be expecting them anxiously. "Miss Butler, I think it is best if you would entrust me with your small friend since my aunt is not very fond of animals ... I will find a way to gain access to the house undetected", he said smiling in mischief.

Catherine found she had no reply to that. So she simply handed him the kitten and smiled in gratitude.

He took the furry thing, lightly brushing his fingers over the soft skin of her hands and turned away. Before he was out of her sight, without turning to her, he added in a higher voice so she would hear and caught her just as she was climbing the stairs with hurried steps: "Perhaps, you should fix your hair before you go in."

"Damnation!", she thought pausing for a few brief seconds, just enough to see him disappear from her sight. She had forgotten about the hair. She quickly started pinning it as she was making her way through the large hallway and towards the dinning room.

"Good afternoon", she said once she was inside and headed towards the chair she knew she had been assigned, under the scrutinizing gaze of Fanny Watson that could not be more appalled about the muddy state Catherine's dress was in.

After lunch, Beau enthusiastically proposed a riding adventure. He was full of wonderful, exciting ideas these days … all of which were designed to amuse and entertain a certain young lady that had been mistress of his heart for quite some time now … Charlotte Watson reminded Beau of his mother ... She had the same quiet, subdued strength and inner kindness … It had been the reason behind him falling in love with her and Charlotte did not disappoint. Every day spent in her presence convinced Beau further that she was the only woman he would ever think of marring.

Catherine agreed to Beau's idea, because she knew he looked to her for support in his planes to spend time with Miss Watson but mostly because she longed to be on a horse and catch speed through the extended grounds.

All her life she had adored horses and had become a master rider since before she was fifteen. She went to her room quickly, eager with anticipation and started removing her clothes the moment she had shut the door behind her.

While she was settling in her dark green riding suit, she was pleased to notice that the kitten had been brought to her room and somehow a basket had been found … A basket that the animal was now occupying comfortably and in deep sleep.

That notice brought about another thought … this one not quite so pleasing. Did this mean that Mr. Thornton had been in her room? She knew full well the room she occupied was a guest bedroom and that he, as master of the house, could move about freely …She also knew that he must have been in this room many times before she had come, perhaps even slept here … in the bed she was now occupying …She knew she was being foolish, but the thought troubled her nonetheless. As did his eyes on her every time they met … She did not want him looking at her like that … It unsettled her. His gaze seemed to contain far too much possession for Catherine's liking.

But she chased those thoughts away as she made her way down to meet the others in front of the stables.

She met with Fanny, Charlotte and Beau. Fanny was not going to accompany them on the excursion, seeing that she had never been fond of horses, but insisted upon giving the two guests a tour of her extended stable…James did not join them on the tour, having taken it more times then necessary, but upon Beau's repeated invitations, he had agreed to come ride with them.

As Catherine looked around the stable area, she did not see much to impress her truly … After all she had breaded stallions for two years on a farm near Barcelona (mostly Arab breeds) so she knew what a beautiful, strong horse looked like. The Watson's selection was not bad, she estimated but she could see there was no real love for horses here …they were merely exhibit material. Most of the mares looked under exercised … but there was one that did get her full attention.

It was a huge, black stallion … very young and quite recently tamed, she was sure of it. She looked as he moved restlessly in his place, sniffing and shaking his head to escape the restraints of his reigns … It was like he was baiting her, and she accepted.

Fanny had told them to pick whatever animal they chose, so she turned to her, eyes ablaze, and said: "I want this one!"

Fanny smiled condescendingly. The nerve of the girl to ask for a horse that was beyond the means of any woman to control … "I do not think that is wise, Miss Butler. My nephew can hardly control Cooper and he is a big man … I doubt you …"

"I will do my best!", she cut abruptly and turned towards the horse that was now being taken out. Catherine rebelled against Fanny's tone of voice and against being compared to James Thornton ... It was obvious that Mrs. Watson's nephew was a city man. He couldn't possibly know how to control or appreciate an animal such as Cooper … but she did.

Fanny smiled tightly and left the girl to her fate. If she wished to break her neck, it would be all on her. She had done her duty.

Catherine only wished she could ride the horse astride, as it was only normal and fitting but social propriety once again got in the way and she had to give instruction for the sideway saddle to be fixed upon the animal's back. She mounted the horse rapidly, refusing assistance from the groom and stormed passed Beau and Charlotte, winking quickly at them.

James had finally managed to escape his business for a few hours and had changed quickly to go riding. He had not done that in God knows how long and he was looking forward to it. As he came out he met up with his aunt that was heading towards the house, and somewhere behind her, he could see Catherine storming out of the stables, riding Cooper.

He was immediately unsettled by the sight. "Aunt, why is Miss Butler riding Cooper?". His voice sounded alarmed, even if he tried to remain calm.

His aunt shrugged in indifference. "She insisted upon it and she could not be convinced otherwise. The girl is damn right obstinate.", Fanny replied aggravated.

James did not reply. He only shook his head in disapproval and quickly made his way towards the stables.

Cooper was a very strong horse and most of the time he had a mind of his own ... which was why James liked him as much as he did … and Cooper hated sideway saddles. James knew that well enough. It would make him feel unbalanced, so he would protest. Catherine was an expert rider. He could tell from the brief image he had seen but she was not strong enough to contain Cooper.

Growing ever more alarmed, James grabbed one of the other horses that had been prepared and mounted it in movement, trying to catch up with his troublesome guest.

He passed by Beau and Charlotte quickly, barely acknowledging them. Beau Wilkes would be of no help to him. He was a terrible rider.

He rode the horse hard trying to gain up on her. There was something else troubling him … Catherine did not know the grounds well at all. There were a lot of holes and obstacles every where … any number of which could cause an accident.

Finally he was able to catch up with her. "Stop!", he yelled through the noise. His voice sounded harsh and demanding.

Catherine did not listen. Who did this man think he was to give her orders? She knew what she was doing perfectly well. She smiled wickedly, shaking her head and urged Cooper to go quicker.

Still, she had to admit that she had been wrong about James Thornton once more. He was an excellent rider. Almost as good as her father and that was saying something.

James knew in that moment, when he saw her riding closer and closer towards an inevitable disaster that he loved her … But he could not shake the feeling that this girl had not received her deserved spanking as a child ... She was obstinate and proud beyond measure.

The only thing he was able to do was ride somehow around her and in doing that constricting her movements to the surrounding area.

But Catherine would have none of that. She pulled on the reigns hard, shifting positions and stormed passed him, almost knocking him down. He was quick to recover. The last thing he saw was her body disappearing over a ridge and then a loud thud that sent shivers down his back.

He jumped off his horse quickly, running towards her, fearing the worst. But before he could see her, he heard her voice. It calmed him and he thanked the heavens for it … but her voice sounded so angry.

"Great balls of fire!", Catherine said, throwing her bonnet away from her. Cooper had been startled and he threw her off. She did not have the sufficient control to contain him, riding sideways… And now to add insult to injury, the man she had been trying to put in his place with her excellent riding skills was coming towards her.

She could almost imagine the smug, satisfied look on his face. "I tried to warn you!", he would tell her smiling. But as she looked up at him, no such thing could be found on his face. Instead he seemed concerned and relieved at the same time.

"Are you all right?", he asked kneeling before her.

"Yes … I think I'm fine", she said shyly, looking down. She could not look at him. She suddenly felt so ashamed. He had only been trying to help her, since this morning when he came looking for her and she had behaved as a spoiled brat … She did not want to cause more trouble, so she decided to stand up, pressing her left foot against the ground. But a sharp, strong pain sent her back down, screaming in agony.

James was quick to catch her. "You mustn't stand up!", he said in a soothing voice, placing her gently on the ground once more.

Catherine closed her eyes to make the pain go away and she took a few deep breathes …

"Miss Butler …", James spoke making Catherine look at him. His face was serious but his heart beat fast. "May I have your permission to check if the ankle is broken?"

Catherine nodded quickly. God! She hoped it wasn't! Otherwise, her father would hear about this and he would not be happy … As a matter of fact, he would be dreadfully concerned.

James slowly lifted her skirt. His hand had started trembling at the mere intimacy that this gesture entailed … He unlaced the boot and removed it. She had beautiful ankles. Of course, she did! Everything about her was beautiful.

He touched her leg softly, turning it slowly as he did this to check on the bone. The leg was not broken. Catherine felt some discomfort, he could feel it by the way she flinched slightly when he turned her leg to the left but other then that, there was no major damage.

Not to her, at least … for he was gone. The damage she had caused on him, without even knowing it was irremediable. He removed his hands slowly, afraid that a moment longer might be inappropriate and spoke in a soft voice, smiling warmly. "It is not broken … But I'm afraid you won't be able to walk back to the house."

Catherine breathed in relief … It was not that bad and her father would never find out.

"If you allow me", James said decidedly bringing her back, "I will carry you back to the house since it seems we have both lost our horses."

"Mr. Thornton you are most kind, especially after what I have done just a few moments ago. You might have been injured yourself and all because of my silliness … I can't thank you enough."

"It is forgotten, Miss Butler", James replied warmly, razing slightly and picking her up in his arms, effortlessly.

Since James had managed to make Catherine ride more or less in circles, they were not that far from the house, although James whished otherwise.

He walked for a while in silence, looking forward as she leaned slightly against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Did Cooper throw you on purpose?", James asked all of a sudden, not really knowing what to tell her.

"No …", she said softly. "It was my fault. I pulled on the reigns too hard. I was too demanding …". It hurt to admit it but it would have been foolish to pretend it had not been her fault. And Catherine Butler was no fool! …"Great balls of fire!", she said again causing James amusement. "I haven't been thrown off a hors since I was five!"

"Oh, I do not doubt it, Miss Butler …", James said ironically. He was not a man that left his debts unsettled.

She grinned, surprised by the response, sensing that he was teasing her. "But I must say, Mr. Thornton, you are a very strong man to carry me without even breaking a sweat!", she said sweetly, taunting him.

He smiled, keeping his hands tightly around her … "Not at all, Miss Butler … You are very easy to carry …"

"Oh, my mirror would disagree with you but I must say that was a very good answer.". She knew she should have felt self-conscious, being in a man's arms like this … literally the closest touch she had received from someone that was not her family, but she did not. She felt safe with this man. Somehow she knew he would never do anything to dishonor her. The thought of how easy it would be for him to force himself on her, here, still out of sight, did not cross her mind. Mr. Thornton had no need of such things, she was sure of it. She imagined there were quite a few ladies that would give their little fingers to be carried by him in the manner that she was … And she could not disagree with that. He was a very attractive man and she finally had to admit that he had turned out to be a rather nice man as well.

The first impression she had of him had been of a rigid, self-important Englishman. God knew the world had enough of those! But she now saw James Thornton in quite a different light.

She did not know and James could not dream of telling her that it did not matter how heavy she was … He would carry her for days, weeks, months at a time if it meant holding her the way he was now. Her burden could weigh down upon him forever and he would not mind.

All too soon they were in full view of the house …People started running towards them, alarmed … His grip on her tightened. Soon, they would take her away from him and such a moment would never present itself to him again.

Before Catherine's alarmed family reached them, she leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear: "Mr. Thornton … you are forgiven.". She smiled kindly upon him.

Somehow he knew she was referring to what he had said, what seemed to be, ages ago and he was quick to answer. "I thought I already was …"

"If you believe that, Mr. Thornton, then you do not know women well!"

And with that they took her away from him. They came close to them and he had to surrender. In the hours that passed, a doctor was called, bed rest was ordered, the Wilkes went in and out of Catherine's room … and he stood on the terrace, knowing that he had no business in that room even if that was the only place he wanted to be in.

It was now the middle of the night, by the own admission of the huge clock placed in the hallway, and James was still on the terrace. Going to bed was pointless. Sleep would not come tonight.

He had went over the events of the day again and again until his head hurt. He wished now that he knew more about love. He wished he knew how to react to it and how to show it without appearing midley ridiculous.

He wished he had not spent all of his youth in a cotton mill and that he knew more about his own heart ... and hers. She seemed an abyss of mystery and he was afraid to lose himself in it but at the same time he was powerless to prevent it.

Just as he was contemplating all of this, a small, slim figure was quickly but silently making its way towards the stables. James knew who it was instantly. He should have guessed she would not give up so easily.

He got up from his chair and fallowed the shadow.

Catherine was now walking slowly towards Cooper … Well, it was more hopping since walking was quite painful at this point. She was wearing her simple brown gown, her hair loose around her shoulders. She was now regretting the decision to leave her room with no shoes, since the ground was wet and cold … Still, there was no time to think about that. She opened the door quickly taking Cooper out. "Come on, boy!", she said in a soft, soothing voice, patting the horse. "Just you and me …".

"Miss Butler, what are you doing?"

Caught in the act, Catherine turned around to face James who was now leaned against the stables door. The sight of her so simply attired both enticed and amused him. She was seductive and playful at the same time. He did not know who he liked more: the girl or the woman …

"Sssst", she said putting her finger against her mouth. "Please, Mr. Thornton. You mustn't tell anyone!", she pleaded.

"Very well, I won't tell", he promised. "But that does not mean I'm letting you go riding now."

"No! No!", she whined as if she was a little girl. "Only for a little while … please!", she negotiated.

He smiled sweetly …. As if he would have been able to stop her. He guessed that no one could stop her from doing something she really wanted to do, least of all him. Still, he kept his authority filled voice as he moved closer to her and laid down the rules … "Very well ... but only for half an hour …"

"But …", she wanted to complain but never got the chance.

"No buts! And you keep to the grounds in front of here where I can see you". He felt as if he was talking to a child. Still, his attitude worked. She nodded not too pleased with the results, took the horse and exited the stables.

It was only now that he realized the horse didn't have a saddle … He wanted to run after he and help her but he soon saw she did not need help. Pressing on her right foot, she quickly placed her elbow on the horse's back and jumped up, mounting it astride this time.

James had never seen anyone ride a horse without a saddle, but he understood why she did it. She could feel the horse much better this way.

He stood in the stable entrance looking at her as she warmed up. He had thought she would punish Cooper for throwing her off earlier, but she did not such thing. She caressed him slowly, leaning down to talk to him, encouraging him ... directing him but never forcing him … She was gaining his trust. Soon enough, James knew he had lost his horse to a beautiful girl with green eyes … and he could not blame him.

He watched her, as she gradually picked up speed ... her hair flying up and down on her back, her dress razing slightly with every movement. She laughed loudly. She was so alive.

James could not dream that such a woman would ever love him … but he could not be quiet anymore. He had to talk to her!


	6. Chapter 6: Hopeful conversation

hey! I'm back! You thought I had quit didn't you?!? Nope! This story is haunting me and it will until I'm done with it ... Sorry about the crazy, long wait!!!!!!!

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Chapter VI – Hopeful conversation

"She's off riding that blasted horse again!",Harriet Wilkes sighed, looking into the sunny, green landscape which lay in front of her. She was sitting on the terrace of the house with her light, broad hat and a shawl well placed upon her shoulders to try and keep the sun as far away from her as possible. Since she had married, Harriet had settled into a life of typical womanly ideals: perfect wives for her sons and perfect white skin. She could not, for the life of her, understand why Catherine insisted on riding that animal that had put her life in peril, or do it without even the minimum attention to her complexion. The flimsy bonnet she had placed on her head was no doubt very fashionable but did very little to hide those exposed shoulders, shoulders that had a tad too much color to begin with.

"Oh! She will be fine!" Fanny replied, dismissing the whole idea. She had had about enough of the strange girl. "James is with her." She preferred discussing other topics such as her daughter Eleanor and the new letter she had received only this morning from somewhere in India, where the happily, noble couple was spending their honeymoon. And whatever Fanny wanted, she usually made a fuss until she got. This was no exception. Within the span of a few seconds she directed the attention of an aunt worried for her niece's safety and skin, to a letter filled with all sorts of silliness, and there it remained for the next hour.

Riding away, further into the grounds on Cooper, Catherine was oblivious to how closely and harshly she was being judged. And even if she had been aware of it, it wasn't likely she would have cared. After all, everyone was entitled to their irrational, strict rules and Harriet, while the sweetest of all women, was no exception. Catherine refused to burden herself with what other people thought of her actions, especially now that she was riding fast and feeling more elated then she had been in a long time. "I have you beaten once more, Mr. Thornton!" she announced triumphantly, looking back at James Thornton riding his brown mare at a close distance behind, before turning and urging Cooper on.

"You have my best horse!",James yelled back laughing, before hearing her say: "Excuses, excuses …". He shook his head at her response, admitting defeat and urging his horse to follow suit and chase after the fascinating creature in front. After a few more minutes of exquisite humiliation, James was finally allowed to catch up with his guest and they moved at a slower pace through the grounds, leaving the house with his aunt's prying eyes. He was thankful for it.

It left him time to enjoy the woman next to him, to whom he felt a sudden and inexplicably forceful pull the likes of which he had not experienced before. It had surprised him at first, to find himself it this peculiar state. He who had been so in control of his emotions; he who was able to avoid any true attachments all his life. It had been no use trying to erase Catherine from his mind. She was there always and at first she had been a great source of torment for him. She was so detached and cold at times, so strange and utterly untouchable that it pained him. He felt so awkward around her, so clumsy and uninteresting. What could he possibly say to a woman like her? She who had been everywhere? She who did everything with such passion and determination? He had spent many hours listening to her playing the piano from behind the door. She always played differently when she thought no one was listening. There was a fire within her that she kept repressed when others were present, out of fear of overwhelming them no doubt. He had never heard anyone play like that, at least not a woman. It was a passionate affair written by her in front of the instrument and she passed that feeling onto those fortunate enough to hear her. There was none of that safe, melodic, pretty playing accomplished young ladies used and that he had become well accustomed to. Her playing was raw and turbulent, alive and heartbreaking. For a foolish moment he had envisioned a future in which he would present her with a large, beautiful instrument placed in the middle of his house parlor.

In his vision she was overjoyed and wrapped her arms around his neck in pure contentment. He shook his head at the notion as soon as it presented itself to him. It was an impossible event, for what would a woman who could have everything and anyone she desired, do with a cotton mill master? His heart sank a little upon thinking that. He had always been proud of who he was and what he did. The mill was his life and he could not think of ever doing anything else. He chastised himself for the thought. The mill brought security and wealth to his family and a means to put food on the table for a quarter of Milton's population. What he did was not only his duty to his family and his father's memory. It was important and it mattered.

Then with the flick of light, her accident had happened and, however misfortunate it might have been, it became the means for them to get closer to each other. Catherine was friendlier to him then she had ever been and they took to riding together every single day.

Since the London Convention was but a few days away, he did not see the harm in staying the extra days at his aunt's house instead of returning to Milton. His mind had been put at ease by Higgins's letter that had announced everything was running smoothly. Little did he know that Margaret Thornton had pushed poor Nicholas to exhaustion to write that letter and make her son spend a few days more in London. After all, Margaret reasoned, James had been such a responsible man all of his life, he needed a few days of distraction. Margaret's scheme was met with disapproval from both Nicholas, who had said that a master's place was in the mill ,and her mother in law who had grumpily referred to an old saying: "When the cat is away, the mice will play,"before returning to her needlework.

But those few days had brought James Thornton a kind of felicity he had not felt in a long time. He felt like a young man, which he after all was, experiencing new and overwhelming feelings. It made him think back to a time before his father had died. Every day once school had ended, he would go to the mill to see his father. He could not keep away from the center of the Thornton's world no matter how much he might try. When he arrived, his father would always greet him with a smile, no matter how busy or burdened by work he would be. James would inquire about everything and his father would explain it all in detail, with infinite patience. James would get so wrapped up in his father's descriptions that he would often take his coat off and demand to help, but his father always shook his head. "There will be time for that, Jamie," he would tell him, caressing his face. "For now you concentrate on your studies, read, go out and see what life has to offer." Often James would feel offended by his father's refusal but now that he had grown he understood his father better then ever before. John Thornton had been forced to work all his young life, from dawn to the late hours of the night. He would not want that for his son. He desired, more then anything, for him to get a general impression of life and find out things that had been out of reach to him at the same young age and for years afterwards.

Thinking of those carefree, sun filled days of his childhood was not a luxury that James Thornton could afford in the years fallowing his father's death. Life had thrown him in the midst of a turbulent cotton mill and he submerged himself in it. But now, next to a girl of 22, who was breathing hard and was contented that once again she had won a horse race, he found he remembered those days quite well. She had done that for him and he could not help but feel grateful.

Their riding exercise had become a daily affair and she had to admit that she enjoyed it immensely. What gave her the most pleasure was that unlike every other man she had gone riding with, James Thornton never let her win. If she won, which did not happen as often as she might have wished, she could be certain it was all entirely on her own merit. She never understood why all the other men that had been around her, including dear William, had always slowed down towards the end letting her have the victory. She felt insulted by it. After all, she was a grown up who could accept defeat in a rational manner. Why they thought giving her the victory as if she was some kind of child would please her, was beyond her.

Mr. Thornton had proven far too sensible for that, not only in their riding competitions but in everything else. They had had the most interesting discussions she had ever entertained with a man before, aside from her father of course. Even their silences were never awkward. She had never met someone who was able to be silent with her. Most of the time people would keep pushing her for conversation, when all she wanted to do was to be silent and still. She would end up either excusing herself from the company or give in and talk when it gave her little pleasure to do so. Mr. Thornton gave her leave to be as silent as she wished and he often fell into his own meditative state, starring at the horizon, until his stern profile would frown under the evident burden of something. What it was Catherine could not tell, but once she had had her need met, she found she was silent less and less.

Over the course of the last two days, Catherine had urged him to talk about his work. It seemed to always be on his mind but he never discussed it with her. Catherine did not understand why. She suspected it was because he did not think such topics were appropriate discussions to be had with ladies. She inwardly rolled her eyes at that and pressed the matter on, her curiosity getting the best of her.

Today, after she had mentioned the topic several times, James began telling her things about Marlborough Mills. There were little things at first and he promised himself to stop the moment he saw she had become bored of the topic, which he had no doubt she would. To his great astonishment, she did not. She seemed very much interested, listening to his stories and asking question or making assumptions that were more often than not correct. He began telling her more intimate accounts, admitting to himself and her that the Mill was part of his flesh as much as his arms and legs. He talked about how it always seemed to him that the Milton universe revolved around the mills and about the families working for him, naming each and every one of them.

She smiled at that and his gaze upon her turned inquisitive. "My mother used to own a lumber mill in Atlanta," she offered as explanation. "She often talked about it even though she had sold it ten years before, right after …". She wanted to say after her parents had separated, but she stopped herself. She imagined that Thornton did not view separation or divorce kindly. " …the death of a friend.,"she concluded instead. "She also knew each and every name that had ever worked for her. I always found that remarkable."

She smiled at that and his gaze upon her turned inquisitive. "My mother used to own a lumber mill in Atlanta.", she offered as explanation. "She often talked about it even if she had sold it for over ten years, right after …". She wanted to say after her parents had separated but she stopped herself. She imagined that Thornton did not view separation or divorce kindly. " …the death of a friend.", she concluded. "She also knew each and every name that had ever worked for her. I always found that remarkable."

Thornton was amazed. The idea of a woman running a business, especially a rough one such as a lumber mill threw him for a moment. His mother and grandmother had been involved with the mill at some point before he had come of age, but never to that extent. He had a sudden vision of a large, strong woman with a frown on her face and large, rugged hands, very different from the delicate, graceful daughter she had produced. "A lumber mill?",he repeated slowly.

Catherine just smiled, having been used to that kind of reaction. "Yes!" she said proudly. "My mother was quite the modern woman, or the inappropriate woman depending on who you talked to," she added bitterly.

He felt her grow sad. Her head drooped a little as it always did when she talked of her mother. Since they had begun their talks she spoke of her mother and father a great deal. She absolutely adored them. There was always such pride in her voice when she talked of her parents that he could not help but admire her further. A person who did not respect their family was not worth the bother in James Thornton's eyes. It had amused him to know that one of her great-grandparents had been a pirate. She told him of how she had envisioned herself as a child on a ship with him, sailing the seven seas.

"That, of course, could never happen," she had said at the end. "They did not allow women on board in those days."

He smiled and replied: "Is that so?"

"Yes. But I feel it would have been their loss, not mine."

She had been so charming when she had delivered that line, he wanted to reach out and kiss her, but he stopped himself. He soon realized that her charm was absolutely unpracticed and unnoticed. She did not know she possessed it as other women did. She simply did what she felt.

As they walked back towards the house today, she could not help but express what had been pressing upon her for some time. "But I do feel she would greatly disapprove of me," she said, talking of her mother. "Always forgetting my shawl, always disheveled in the presence of gentlemen …",she said pointing towards him. She sighed looking to her right through the thick trees.

"I am sure your mother would be very proud of you … And you have always looked very well to me, Miss Butler."His tone was soothing and certain.

They were getting closer to the stables and they soon dismounted and walked slowly, along the grass.

"I will have to leave tomorrow,"he announced once they had left the horses. "So this will have to be our last ride for now."

"Where are you going?"she asked without giving it a second thought. Women were discouraged to be so direct but she did not care for the rule.

He smiled before answering and felt a strange kind of pleasure at her inquiry. "There is a London Convention in a few days. I do not know if you have heard of it. I will be there to talk about the new machine I have bought. The one your brother Bill helped me buy."

"Yes, I have heard about the Convention. Beau has offered to take me and Charlotte to go and see it. I look forward to hearing you talk, Mr. Thornton."

"Oh! I am sure you will be bored senseless by the end of it…"

"I doubt that very much. You have never bored me, Mr. Thornton. And I doubt that you would when talking about something that obviously means the world to you. I would very much like to see your Marlborough Mills one day."

All James could think at that moment was how much he would like to show her his Marlborough Mills one day.


	7. Chapter 7: News from home

Chapter VII – News from home

Catherine Butler walked through the exhibition with soft, confident strides holding her head high. She wanted everyone to take note of her new bonnet. She had just bought it on the way over here when she and Charlotte Watson had spotted a darling little hat shop at the end of a long, narrow street.

In their excitement they had dragged poor Beau Wilkes after them in order to look at the precious objects up close, admire them and, consequently, buy them in the span of a few minutes.

"I do not understand women's fascination with these objects. I own a total of three top hats. They are fit for every occasion and I am perfectly content," Beau commented, smiling. He made himself comfortable in an armchair, suspecting this affair was going to last an excruciatingly long time. He was quite enjoying the show, if he was to be honest. Here were two of the loveliest creatures he had ever met, running around in a frenzy, trying on everything they could get their hands on and the store's employees were running after them, back and forth holding up the merchandise, happy at the large sale they would undoubtedly make.

Catherine rolled her eyes at Charlotte upon hearing Beau's words, making her laugh: "It is at times like these, I miss my father the most. There is a man that understands the delicate relationship between a woman and her bonnets."

They went on to try every single bonnet the shop had to offer, with fierce determination.

"Ladies, you might want to hurry … I do entertain high hopes of arriving at the exhibition by midnight."

"Oh, how he teases us, Catherine!" Charlotte said jokingly. "Midnight, indeed, Mr. Wilkes …"

"Yes!" replied Catherine with a mischievous smile, "So much so that he forces me to retaliate and tell you some of the things he used to do in his youth … like the time he jumped the fence of his Atlanta house to go steal chickens …"

"Don't you dare!" Beau jumped up alarmed. But before he could get to Catherine, both she and Charlotte had run towards the safety of the changing rooms from where he could hear them whispering and giggling, on his account no doubt.

It was towards the end of their little adventure that Charlotte came upon a hat that left her yearning and burning as she had not done since the sight of the new spring catalogue from France. It was a broad, straw hat, with a purple sash tired around it and large purple flowers on one of its sides. It was meant to be worn tilted on one side, bringing it down almost to the edge of the eye, giving it a mysterious appearance. "Oh!" she sighed in admiration. "It is too beautiful for words. But I dare not wear it …" she shook her head and looked at Catherine willing her to say something that would change her mind.

Catherine did not disappoint. "I say you do!" she told her decidedly, picking up the object and handing it to her. "And you are going to wear it today, at the exhibition." Charlotte looked shocked and more then a little apprehensive. "After all, the exhibition is hosting commodities from all over the world. We are obliged to be a little daring." She began looking around until she found a suitable object: "And I will wear this!" she announced, holding up a dark, green bonnet, which combined lace and silk to a most interesting effect. It was designed as a top hat, but adorned enough to make it appealing to a woman. It had a thin layer of lace that could be rolled over the face.

Like all the other choices Catherine had made, this was quite a bold one. The particular style was not viewed well by the so called "ladies of fashion" who considered them too provoking. "And when I am done with it," she announced placing it on her head, "I will give it to Beau, so he can have four top hats, instead of three."

She giggled and looked back at the man that the two of them had forgotten for almost a full hour.

At the mention of his name, Beau jumped up and came towards them, determined to get them out of the shop once and for all. "Yes …" he said wearily, "I am sure it will go wonderfully with my pink, muslin dress." He imitated their excitement and handed them his arms, leaving no room for refusals. He instructed the owner to send the rest of the packages to the home of Mrs. Watson and the three of them exited the store victoriously: two of them because they had managed to close a store early for the day and one of them because he had finally escaped the mysterious female entrapments of lace and silk.

Now that they had arrived at the "London World Exhibition", he let the two of them walk in front, arm in arm, looking around and feeling very confident. It was amazing to him how a simple change of bonnets could make them so radiant. But he enjoyed following them, looking around at all the men as their heads turned almost causing them to knock things from tables. He would, now and again, cough, signaling to the man in question that the ladies were not alone and he'd better stay away. He enjoyed being the protector of the two minxes and he appreciated Catherine's influence over his angel. Charlotte seemed more confident and grown up around his sister. It made him more insistent in his courtship, certain that she would not turn away from his attentions.

They did make a most interesting pair, Catherine and Charlotte. So different in appearance and temper and yet both open and happy. One soft and luminous as a snow filled day, blond hair floating around her; her white cheeks flushed with a rosy excitement; her blue eyes inquisitive and open; translucent and serene as a midnight fairy. The other was, of course, quite the opposite: honey and glowing like a sun filled summer day; her body round and slender, moving with graceful, circular paces, forcing irreverent thoughts out of even the strongest of men; her lips red and full and her eyes glowing, green silk, looking around ready to consume everything with an ardent desire for knowledge. Her dark hair was kept in a loose, elegant, intricate loop, but true to the rest of her nature, a few strands had rebelled against the design, falling from the pins and circling her face, making her seem fresh and innocent.

Walking together as they did, they were bound to cause some kind of excited frenzy and Beau had to catch up eventually in order to keep them away from the 'English dragons' that were roaming the exhibition.

"We should hurry," Catherine said, urging Beau on. "I want to hear Mr. Thornton speak."

"Well, if you had spent less time picking bonnets you could have heard the whole, damned thing," Beau replied making Catherine smile and Charlotte look enraged at his choice of words. "I apologize, Miss Watson," he said quickly. "I have no idea what came over me."

"It's a good thing we have Charlotte here to keep you in check, otherwise I don't know what I'd do with you … speaking so in front of ladies," Catherine taunted, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Oh, you'd manage," came the grumpy reply. Beau remembered Catherine using such words herself, and making no apologizes about it. It was one more reason why he loved her. He did not fear saying what he felt when he was with her.

They walked through the rooms quickly, paying little attention to the things they passed by. Catherine did hear some sort of squeaky music, coming from a strange object somewhere to the far left, and made a mental note to come back and see what the peculiar machine was.

As they were walking through one of the great halls of the building, Catherine could hear Mr. Thornton's voice in the distance, resonating through the room. It was so confident and strong, so calm and collected that it made Catherine smile and somehow urged her on … urged her to reach the source of that soothing, melodic sound.

The presentation was, of course, over just as Beau had predicted but James was now engaged in a quite deep discussion with five other gentlemen.

Beau spotted his brother, Billy next to the huge machine they were viewing, explaining its functions to a large crowd of businessmen. He and Charlotte made their way towards him. Catherine would have normally gone with them, since she had not seen Billy in some time, but at the moment she was much more interested in what Mr. Thornton had to say, so she kept close by and tried to listen without imposing on him or his company.

She tried not to meddle. Really, she did. But he was speaking with so much certainty, holding such control over the conversation that she could not help but stare at him as he kept his arms folded and smiled softly from time to time. There was such a quite, unrehearsed charm about him that she could not help but come closer to the group.

Someone had questioned the cotton industry and accused its volatility, blaming it mostly on the workers and their constant displeasures and strikes. The other mill masters there had been only too happy to agree with it. Thornton, on the other hand did not. The workers, he said, were just people after all with families to take care of, forced to live in precarious situations. They could not be blamed for not understanding the international situations that at times dictated their wages. After all, who would when your major concern was to put food on the table? He said that the true success of his mill rested in his desire to understand the people he worked with and treat them as reasonable human beings instead of as a necessary evil.

And while the aged Mr. Hamper rolled his eyes at his much younger colleague's words, he could not very well argue with the truth of his statements. Marlborough Mills was the most successful mill in Milton and had retained all of its original investors even after John Thornton had died. He had thought then that the mill would collapse, something he could not, in all honesty, say would have troubled him greatly, but it carried on as well as before. James Thornton had managed to keep his father's business afloat through several crises which was a feat his own son had fallen short of. He had announced his retirement, soon after Thornton had been named magistrate and head of the Master's Union. The thought of being led by a man half his age did not agree with Hamper at all. But even if that had been more then five years ago, Hamper was still pulling on his son's sleeve and handling most of the business himself.

Still, he was not all that happy about where the conversation was leading and soon enough saw an opportunity to stop it when he spotted a rather stunning little creature, standing close by, enraptured by the conversation. His old cunning eyes did not deceive him. She was looking at Thornton as if she knew who he was. Whoever the girl was, he had a keen interest to find out. "Who is that remarkable creature over there?" he asked, doing very little to hide his intentions. Subtlety had never been Hamper's strong point.

James looked up quickly and saw Catherine standing just inches away from him. He could not help a large smile form appearing and was pleased when he saw her smile back and greet him with a nod of the head. He excused himself from the company and, forgetting to answer Hamper's question, headed towards her.

"Miss Butler!" he greeted her warmly and lifted his hand which she was more then happy to accept and shake confidently, in a way he had come to think of as completely American.

"Mr. Thornton, I don't mean to impose. Please go back to your company. I am perfectly content sitting here."

He wanted to laugh at that. How could she ever impose on him when she was the only person he wanted to see? Still he had to admire her self sufficient nature. She was standing in a large, public room completely alone and yet seemed perfectly at ease. "You could never impose on me, Miss Butler," he told her withdrawing his hand reluctantly. "And in any case, my business here is over. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

"I must admit that would please me very well," she said cheerfully.

They began walking through the room and James could not keep his eyes off her. She finally looked back at him and he had to drop his eyes, not wanting to seem too forward or daring. "Excuse me …" he apologized smiling and tried to change the topic: "Is that a new bonnet?" he asked pointing to her head.

She laughed. "Yes, it is." She reached out and touched it softly. "I'm afraid Charlotte and I got a bit carried away …" she said pointing to James's cousin who was standing next to Beau Wilkes wearing a new bonnet of her own. "I think we tortured poor Beau within an inch of his sanity," she laughed.

"I am sure Mr. Wilkes found ways of entertaining himself," James replied. He could only imagine Catherine in a frenzy, running around trying everything she could get her pretty, little hands on. He knew he would have enjoyed the sight quite as much as Beau, undoubtly, had.

They spent several more minutes in the Great Hall, next to the large machine showcased there because Catherine had asked James to tell her about it. He did so, trying to explain things as well as he could. He also told of the implications this machine would have on his mill and why he considered it such a good investment. Catherine listened carefully, eager to find out more and happy to see James answering her questions in a normal, factual way instead of the patronizing way most men used when explaining matters of business to women.

She confessed to him that she had rushed through the rest of the exhibition in order to hear him speak and she wondered if he would care to walk with her through the rest of the rooms. He could not help his enchantment at her simple admission of desiring to hear what he had to say and he was overjoyed that she had invited him to walk with her, especially since she gave no indication of wanting to wait for her brothers or Charlotte. This meant he would have her all to himself, even if it was for just a few moments.

They walked through the rooms slowly, looking around and stopping frequently, every time Catherine saw something worth exploring. He could not help but smile when looking at the way her eyes grew big with wonder when seeing objects that she had only read about in books or were completely new to her. But none of it compared to her reaction when she saw a gramophone.

She had confessed to him that she had heard it play when she had come in and was more then eager to see what it looked like and how it worked.

She almost ran towards it and stared at it in wonder for several minutes. "How wonderful!" she had said after the vendor had played several tunes for her, clapping her hands eager for more like a little, giddy girl. "How does it work?" she asked and the man began explaining the process to both of them, turning the machine around so they could get a better look at it.

James became interested in the explanations himself but now and again he would turn his head to look at her as she watched it all in such wonder, biting her lower lip in concentration and clapping now and again when something surprised her. He chuckled at her reactions. She was so sweet and innocent and completely unaware of how charming that made her.

"Catherine?" a loud voice called out from the other side of the room and soon enough a petite, chubby woman rushed through the crowd of people and towards Catherine and James. "Catherine Butler!" she said. "I thought that was you!"

Catherine turned quickly, surprised at first and then smiling when she recognized the person in front of her … "Mrs. Brown!"

Before Catherine could extend her hand, Anne Brown took two steps and embraced Catherine tightly, pressing her against her rather large bosom. "My sweet child!" she said. "What happiness to run into you here!"

If she could have, Catherine would have answered but since she was practically being squashed she just smiled and prayed she would be released soon. "And I see you've forgotten all about poor William!" Mrs. Brown said, finally releasing Catherine and pointing towards the rather handsome man next to her, whose features went to stone at the mention of the name _William_.

Catherine felt her cheeks burning. Mrs. Brown had always had an impetuous, indiscreet nature but she did not expect her to be quite so rude. Yet she could not help but say quickly: "Of course not!" She could not bear the thought of William thinking she had forsaken him. "This is Mr. Thornton," she said, introducing James to the older woman. "He's a friend. Just a friend," she added, looking straight at Mrs. Brown.

James felt a sudden blow to the stomach. The way she had said it, the way she had flushed at the mention of that name crumbled him. Still, he composed himself and greeted the older woman who, just by being there, had unbalanced him so greatly.

They stood for a few moments, exchanging small talk but soon James felt he was in the way. He could see from Catherine's face how eager she was to ask Mrs. Brown questions and he knew his presence was preventing her from doing so.

"If you will excuse me," he said bowing, "I will leave you to catch up."

This seemed to bring Catherine back from her scheming and silent mode and realize just how rude she had been. "No, Mr. Thornton! Please, stay. There is no need for you to leave."

"I must," he said sternly, putting on his cold, distant face. "I have matters to attend to." With that he made his good-byes and left.

He could feel Catherine watching him for a moment longer and then she turned towards Mrs. Brown and asked in a low voice, "So … tell me about my sweet William."

He got out of the building as fast as he could, feeling as if the walls would crumble on top of him. He could not stop his feet from wandering through the streets mindlessly. There was such sadness inside him; he could not even explain it to himself. He had never thought she might be in love with someone else. He knew she was not in love with him but he thought that perhaps with time … What a fool he had been! To hear that name, the name of his rival made him realize just how far he was from achieving his wish. Her _sweet William!_ Her words played in his head over and over again. They had held such love, such tenderness. To hear her speak them in her low, sweet voice and know they were not meant for him made him want to crawl into a corner and disappear. How close she had seemed to him! How very close he had felt to the one he loved as much as he did. How very close the possibility of happiness had seemed to him and how quickly, how very quickly it had crumbled before his eyes. Catherine entertained no thoughts of him. He was _just a friend _and nothing else. She had only spared a fleeting thought for him.

She was such a child, he realised. A child used to being adored and spoiled who knew not how to recognize love when it was offered to her. How could he blame her for it? After all she had received such an abundance of it, she was likely to take it for granted. And still, could all they had shared in these last few weeks have been a fantasy, a figment of his imagination? Could he have lost his mind to that degree? He had to wonder if he would be able to face her and find out the truth, for as cold as he suspected it might be. For now he kept walking mindlessly through the streets wondering where his prized and safe composure had gone and whether his heart, his young, untrained heart could resist a rejection from the woman he wanted so desperately.

* * *

I dare you to tell me that she doesn't take after her mother!!

reviews equal love!


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